Harry Potter and the Heir of Andros
by Idovelicus
Summary: Harry's Godfather is dead by his cousin's hand, and he is one night away form being sixteen. But during this night, he has to make a choice. And once he has, he must claim his inheritance, and stop pretending to be less than he is. Will he live up to the legacy of Andros, the inventor of the Patronus, and his ancestors? One thing is certain, he will not be controlled or protected.
1. Prologue: Rise of the Heir

Disclaimer: I do not own anything even close to related to Harry Potter or any other trademarked recognizable franchise. All rights belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and all respective authors.

Prologue: The Rise of the Heir

Harry James Potter had never been normal. but that was a given, since he was, after all, a wizard. However, even for a wizard, normality had been one of the few things he'd never been accused of. And he had been accused of a _lot_. But then again, that had only cemented his opinion of the wizarding world. Most were sheep. But then again, he hadn't had enough experience with mundane folk to know whether that was just human nature or not. He thought so, though.

However, there was a certain level of abnormal that was too much even for him. Saving the Philosopher's Stone at 11? Sure, all in a day's work. Kill a Basilisk at 12? Why ever not? Learning the Patronus Charm at 13? Well that's just to be expected. And it was completely unnecessary to even mention he had defeated a hundred Dementors wit a single Patronus (once again, at 13), that just went without saying.

But his Patronus was most definitely not supposed to turn into a man.

Nope, even for him, that might have been a bit too much.

Harry's Patronus (who he already called Prongs without really thinking about it) had just defeated over a hundred Dementors near the Black Lake. Now it just hovered near him. Harry knew he had to hurry up, because he had to get out of there before Snape woke up or whoever had found them before the time-turner trip came. And because he had to find Hermione and Buckbeak so they could save his godfather (dogfather? whatever...) from getting Kissed.

But apparently, Prongs had other plans.

Before his very eyes, Harry saw his snow white Stag Patronus begin to shine like a miniature white sun, before remolding itself into a tall, bulky man with fierce red hair and beard with a headband around his hair, wearing a white Greek toga and brown sandals, with a proud grin shining on his face. he shined with white light, but it was clear that his skin was abnormally white even for a British wizard, with or without the bright glowing.

-Great job! I hadn't seen such a good Patronus in over six decades, and I should know, I invented the Hades-damned spell!

"Yep, definitely not normal even for me", Harry thought.

The man explained himself, telling the young wizard in front of him that his name was Andros, sometimes known as The Invincible. That reminded Harry of a chocolate frog card he'd seen of someone called "Andros the Invincible", who had lived in Ancient Greece and had not only mastered wandless magic, but also been famous for being able to produce a Patronus the size of a Giant.

Andros seemed pleased he was still in the chocolate frog cards (which reminded Harry a lot of Dumbledore... which was just creepy), but was a little grumpy on the particulars. "I invented he damn spell", he mumbled, along with "Giant? More like Dragon-sized, but what would these people know?". It was amusing, but a little confusing as well for Harry.

-I'm sorry to interrupt, but why did you appear?

-Ah, that, right, sorry. I get a little distracted sometimes. And no, Death doesn't cure it, I can tell you that much for certain. But moving on, I'm here because you just mastered the Patronus Charm before sixteen, which is impressive, by the way. And like I said, great job with those Dementors! You must have kicked them all the back to Azkaban from here! But I digress.

-You do that a lot.

-I'm dead. Sue me, I dare you.

-Fair enough.

-As I was saying, I'm here because you mastered the Patronus Charm before your sixteenth birthday. Typically, that would be great, but you wouldn't get more than a kudos, and certainly not a house call from yours truly. However, you're not quite typical, are you?

-Circumstances would argue against it.

-Pretty much. Well, lad, congratulations from your Great-great-keep-repeating-that-for-a-few-minutes-grandfather.

Harry was dazed for a few seconds, but his experiences had not been for naught after all, and within five seconds he was already shouting:

-WHAT? YOU'RE MY ANCESTOR? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE, I'M NOT GREEK!

He would probably have ranted a bi more but Andros shut him up with a gesture and said:

-I know it's probably a lot to take in, but hear me out, alright? My name, as I've said, is Andros. I was born in Greece, in the isle of Crete, some twenty-eight hundred years ago. I was the son of an barbarian outsider from the North and a young woman disowned by her parents because she didn't want to marry. She ended up marrying my father. I know, it doesn't make much sense, but I never even knew my father's name, as he died when I was three and my mother preferred to never speak of him again. I was never told much about my parents' past. My mother died five years later herself. Her name was Europa, and I never forgot her.

I lived by myself in the wilds for three years. I didn't know it then, but it was my magic that made me live that long. I could heal, I could move faster, I could vanish into thin air to escape danger, and I could keep myself warm. It was how I learned to use a dagger and a bow, at least to a basic level that I needed to hunt. I actually nicked both thee the bow and the dagger from a huntsman when he wasn't looking. I stole arrows whenever I could.

Then I was found by the blacksmith of Ierapetra, and he took me in, since he was a childless widower. He taught me to read and write, to work a forge, to count, and to properly hold a sword. Good old Alyosha... He was my father even more than my birth parent. But he wasn't my mentor, that was my "grandfather figure", or whatever he was. Ptolemy was never easy to categorize, the old barmy coot.

Ptolemy was Egyptian. I never knew what his real name was, but I always knew him as Ptolemy. He found me When I was thirteen, bullied by older boys for my heritage and appearance. You see, Harry, I got my father's height and build, his skin (which was whiter than any Greek's) and his hair and beard, and my mother's face and eyes. This made me unusual, and people don't like those who are different. He found me, healed me, and when realizing I had incredible magical potential decided to take me on as an apprentice.

And so, for years, I learned how to use magic through a staff like my mentor. But I never forgot Alyosha, and when the old blacksmith died I was fifteen and already a proficient smith. My magic sang in tune with the metal, you see, so for me it was akin to meditation. But the opinion of the people against me didn't change. And on the eve of my sixteenth birthday, I snapped at an attempt to bully me. I almost maimed several of my bullies, before my teacher found me and stopped me. I didn't want to stop, but Ptolemy was over two hundred years old, and I was almost like a bug compared to him. He incapacitated me without knocking me out and erased the memories of the other boys. Then he sat me down and told me: "Andros, I know. I know it's hard, and that you didn't deserve what was this town's treatment of you. And maybe they deserved what you were about to dish out. But remember, everything you do will have an effect on you and the world around you. You cannot affect only one. So think. Did you deserve to deal with the aftermath on your very nature that you would have to deal with if I hadn't stopped you? I can no longer allow this, child. You are an infant compared to me, but that does not change the fact that you will soon be a man. You must choose the kind of man you'll be, or let the world choose for you. I will not teach you any further until you have made that decision. But understand that the path you almost took with those boys is not one I will condone. I will not force you to be who you do not want to be, young one, but I will not help you along such a road. So ponder this, and come dawn tomorrow let me know, as a sixteen year old, as a man, what path you have taken. Will you take the dark path of revenge? Or the light path of mercy?"

Which do you think I took?

Harry was somewhat lost in his ancestor's story, so he took a little while to even realize he been asked a question. When he did, he thought long and hard, but couldn't come up with an answer. And he told Andros so. The Greek merely smiled and said:

-It's alright, my descendant, you still have time. You will take that choice yourself when you reach the eve of your sixteenth birthday.

-Why? Because I've already mastered the Patronus?

-Exactly! As my heir and one who has that power at your age, the night before your sixteenth birthday dawns upon you, you will face me in your dreams, and you will be given the choice, as I was. Mayhap when you're older you'll know my choice. Maybe you'll take it yourself!

-But then why are you telling me this now?

-Because your Patronus was too great an opportunity to meet you, and I wanted to size you up. Either way, you will forget this until the day before your sixteenth birthday.

Harry looked at his ancestor, and could only think of asking:

-When?

-In a couple minutes. Is there nothing you want to ask?

Harry thought for a minute, before answering.

-Actually, there is. I said I didn't know which path you'd taken. But why do I get the feeling you took neither?

Andros grinned from ear to ear, and simply said:

-I expect great things from you, kid!

Then he vanished. And Harry shook his head, not remembering anything about Andros or what had just happened, and turned away to go save his Godfather.

Sirius was flying away on Buckbeak, thinking of his Godson. Harry was incredible. He was every bit his father's son, and his mother's even more, if possible. yep, totally justified his decision to make Harry the Black Heir. Although... Mastering the Patronus had been unexpected. And if his family legends were to be believed (and as a wizard, Sirius' limits to what he believed a wizard could do were few and quite high), then the kid's life might become even more difficult... Or not. It was too unpredictable too say for sure.

 _-Sirius, you will not see his Choice in your lifetime. When your time is close, and you will know when it is, make the portrait and the will. I will tell what you need to know then."_

Sirius shivered. He knew what that voice in his mind was. His family legends were true after all.

"Sorry pup. I guess I won't be able to help you for long. And your life will get even harder after I can no longer help in the flesh".

 _ **A/N: So, here is the beginning of The Heir of Andros. This will be Grey Harry, with Harry not siding with either side of the war. I'm still deciding whether he will actually take part in it or just wait until Voldie comes to him. No pairings at this point. There will be slight Dumbledore bashing, and the bashing of Hermione and Ron will be slightly heavier, mainly Ron's. They won't have manipulated him, they're just not good friends and completely inadequate for a Harry that makes the choice he does and doesn't pretend to be less than he is. Harry will be going to Hogwarts. If you have any suggestions please review.**_

 _ **Also, Andros is canon, he is shown in a chocolate frog card, but other than that there is no real information about him. So I decided it would be fun to use him and develop the character.**_

 _ **Anyway, that's it for me. Idovelicus over and out, read and review, please!**_


	2. Chapter 1: The Heir's Choice

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Chapter 1: The Heir's Choice

Harry James Potter was having trouble sleeping.  
He'd been having this problem since Sirius' death. In fact, he hadn't slept a wink over three hours in a single night for over a month. And he had not been contacted in any way by his friends, which only cemented his closely guarded belief that they were no smaller sheep than Malfoy. The difference lay in the shepherd. And right now, Harry was not happy with either of them. In fact he wasn't happy with pretty much anyone in the wizarding world, except Remus, Tonks, and the cool Weasleys (Bill, Charlie and the twins). And he didn't know anyone in the bloody Muggle world, so it was fair to say he was pretty much pissed with nearly everyone he knew.  
He was suspicious of the Wizarding World's idea of mental health. At fourteen, he'd seen a murder. He'd also committed murder at eleven, been abused since he was one or two years old, and he had been subjected to the loss of his Godfather at fifteen, just a month and a half earlier. Heel, he'd been warned of the prophecy almost immediately after that, and he couldn't even count the amount of times he'd been in mortal danger. Safest place in the world, indeed. And to cap it off, he'd been forced to compete in a tournament meant for wizards and witches far more qualified than him, and had only gotten hatred out of it. Worse, he'd been tortured and socially ostracized and vilified, even slandered by his own incompetent government this year... which had started with the same government trying to kill him, and then almost expelling him for not dying.  
And through all this, he had never seen head or tail of a shrink or any kind of professional help. And there hadn't even been consequences for anyone involved unless they'd already been killed! He was the freaking boy-who-lived and he had been more attacked by his government and people than anyone else! Thank Merlin he had been wise enough to pretend to just be a reckless, stupid Gryffindor. Who knew what would have happened if he'd let his mask slip.  
Harry was far more Slytherin (and surprisingly Ravenclaw) than everyone ever knew. And he hated having to pretend to have a half a Hufflepuff in him. All an act, as he was determined, but not at all friendly, and his loyalty was far more difficult to earn than he pretended. He considered Neville a true friend, but no others. Hermione was... Hermione was Hermione. His excuse for having good grades, and an insufferable arrogant, moralist and bossy know-it-all. And of course, not half as clever as she thought.  
Ron was someone that completely repelled Harry and had for four years now, but he had unfortunately been his first acquaintance, and Draco had also rubbed him the wrong way right off the bat, rendering him a Gryffindor with the entirety of the stigma associated. Hermione's rescue had happened when he was still relatively innocent, but it had been a huge surge of luck, for it had allowed him to have good grades without raising suspicions. Ron was just the opposite of what Harry found attractive in a friend, and was in fact almost Harry's exact opposite.  
At least, Third year onward Harry. He'd lost his saving people thing during his second year, and had only rescued Ginny because he wanted to fully clear his name and because he couldn't let Hogwarts close. He was still wondering how he'd let it resurface and make him save Gabrielle, even though it had helped with his image. And he supposed it had made him get on good terms with Fleur, who he still kept in touch with. She'd been really thankful for the way he'd helped Gabrielle out of "zat horrible lake", since they had Veela blood, which meant that cold water was dangerous for them and merpeople even more so. After all, Veela were creatures of air ad fire.  
Fleur was one of the few people he considered his friends. Sure, she had been a little rude when they'd first met, but then again, she had a very distrusting attitude towards all males, since few or none could resist her Veela allure, making it impossible for her to have a normal conversation with any male her age. Only after the second task had both of them discovered he was pretty much immune, unless she focused her allure exclusively on him with maximum power, and even then only because he was a hormonal male teenager looking at an incredibly beautiful seventeen year old girl. Which meant that Fleur could interact normally with him, a very rare commodity for her. Besides, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, she was half-Veela, they had similar experiences with public opinion and unwanted attention.  
She was also is only friend who knew about is mask. He had taken it off for no one else. She'd been ever so fascinated with the concept of one such as him being plagued by a "saving people thing". She'd laughed for ours, but Harry knew it had only made her appreciate what he did for Gabrielle even more.  
Harry almost laughed, remembering that before the Department of Mysteries catastrophe, one of the few things he'd been looking forward to was a date with Fleur that she'd forced him to agree upon after the Cho situation crashed and burned. Well, now it was difficult to look forward to anything, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to go on that date with Fleur. If they let him out of the house, it would probably be to go to headquarters or the Burrow. Either way, Molly would be there, and he was pretty sure she would try to stop him at all costs.  
He was grateful that Molly had been so kind towards him over the years, no matter the reason, but she was not only a Dumbledore fanatic through and through (almost like a Bellatrix Lestrange of the Light), but also one of the biggest control freaks he had ever met. Besides, she had no problems with Muggles or their descendants, but for some reason had a similar bias against all foreigners and on-humans except Hagrid (who she still didn't like much) and Remus, who was the only reason she even tried to hide it. It rankled with Harry, after all, she was a lot like a talkative Banshee herself.  
And worse, she' gotten in her head the idea that Ginny was going to be his wife and tried to kick out of his life by force any other potential romantic interest. Worse, she tried to force the idea on Ginny, and she'd even gotten the idea that Hermione would marry Ron! The two were like siblings, and besides, Ginny and Hermione had been dating for three months now... Not that Molly would ever accept it. Muggles had progressed far beyond them in social acceptance, for sure, but Molly's lack of a problem with Muggles was more on the lines animal support. To her, Muggles were like animals who did not deserve the animal cruelty displayed by Death Eaters. She was completely ignorant of the Muggle dominance of the planet. As the world stood, wizards were definitely at a disadvantage. But Molly would also never accept this.  
"Maybe I should have negative thoughts more often" Harry thought as he finally felt sleep embrace him.

Harry dreamed of the night he'd met Sirius. "Weird... Normally I dream of the night he died..." He saw his first meeting with Sirius, Peter's escape, Lupin's chase, and the Dementors' attack on the shores of the Black Lake. Then he saw the time-turner and their rescue of Buckbeak the Hippogriff, and finally his defeat of the Dementors. Then he saw Andros showing up, WAIT, WHAT?! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?!  
Then Harry remembered meeting his ancestor, and reviewed his every word through the dream. Then, still shaken from the returned memory, he watched the rest of the night play out. He woke up at dawn, with a voice echoing through his mind, saying:  
 _"From Dawn till Dusk, one day to decide you will be given. But come Nightfall, you will come before your bloodline and choose. And tomorrow at Daybreak, you will wake a man and a recognized Heir to those who came before you. Good Luck."_

Harry stood in his bedroom, still reeling from his dream and the warning that came after. One day... ONE DAY?! People could take YEARS to make such a choice! How was he expected to reach it in a day?! He couldn't even learn Occlumency...  
WAIT!  
THAT'S IT!  
Occlumency was the art of defending your mind through complete mastery of it, which was also great for memory recall and information processing, as well as heightened reflexes through elimination of redundant processing. But essentially, it was mastery over oneself that required perfect control and knowledge of oneself. If his answer, his choice, could ever be reached, it would be through Occlumency.  
On the other hand, he pretty much sucked at Occlumency. But that had been Snape's class, which was focused on its interaction with Legillimency. Meaning, in defending his mind. But that wasn't his goal. Instead, his goal this time was to know himself. To know whether he would choose Darkness or Light. Neither sounded appealing.  
Darkness wasn't appealing because, while he wasn't a good, innocent kid without sin, he certainly wasn't evil or cruel, and he couldn't understand sadism. Sure, hurting those who had hurt him he could understand, but random bouts of torture? Unpleasant, unnecessary and bad for his image.  
Light was just as inconvenient. He had no patience for the sheep, and if he didn't have a public image to protect he would send them all to hell. For all he cared, the wizarding world could burn to ashes and he wouldn't piss on it. Besides, if he chose to fight in the war, he would have to use more tools than what the Light condoned. Winning a war with stunners? How daft were they? People died. And in a war, people killed. He didn't LIKE to kill, but he understood the necessity, and if it had to be done, he would do it.  
Maybe he could just go Muggle...  
No, bad idea, they might find him anyway, either the old creep, the zombie creep or both. Occlumency it was, then.

Harry stood inside the public library in Surrey, with a couple of books on meditation in front of him. His idea was to use his magical core to reach his mind, and use meditation to reach his magical core. It was in a very rudimentary phase, but then again, most of his plans never had a chance to go past "rudimentary".  
So far, he hadn't had much success, and it was almost lunch time. He really needed to speed this up... There! Might as well try.  
He tried a new breeding technique, and to his great surprise, found his eyes were closing and he falling within himself. "NOW? I've been trying for two hours and my breathing is what was wrong? Unbelievable..."  
He saw a sphere of pure white, with currents of gold, red, blue and green all around it. And in one corner, a black spot that too the shape of a lightning bolt. The surprise was he size. It dwarfed Harry, since it was pretty much the size of the Hogwarts Grounds and surrounding woods and lake, and this was the diameter. Then he saw three tethers. One left from the black spot, and he couldn't see where it led. Another led to what he could see was his body, and one other led to his mind... Or at least he thought so.  
Two tings worried him. The tether between his mind and his magical core was wide and thick, strong as could be. But the tether between his core and his body was incredibly thin and frail, like a tiny water stream in the rocks next to the Amazon that was the Mind-Core tether. Also, that black spot... and its tether... could it be that he had just found his connection to Voldemort?  
He had a huge core. Hermione had once ranted (while reading up on Occlumency, since he was having lessons with Snape) about how an average person's core looked about as big as shack, with the abnormally strong wizard having one as big as the Burrow. Dumbledore was thought to have one as big as the Black Lake and Voldemort's core to be only slightly larger.  
Which meant that Harry was stronger than they would be if their cores were multiplied by the other. How could he be that strong and not show it? "Well, stupid, that might be because the connection between your body and your core is almost nonexistent. Maybe you should put your Choice on hold for a second and dedicate a couple minutes to fixing it, no?" "...Shut up."  
After a minute of sarcastic internal banter, Harry tried to push magic through his tether, only to suffer incredible pain. Nothing like a Cruciatus, almost pleasant in comparison really, but still hurtful. But his tether had grown larger. "Well, this is going to hurt. But if it has to be done, it has to be done. I just wish I had some painkiller potion..."  
Five minutes later, his tether was looking healthy, if not as strong as the other one. "Good enough for now. Maybe I should try to visit my mind now..."  
"Hem-Hem."  
"Stop imitating Um-bitch."  
"Whatever gets your attention. Shouldn't you maybe focus on, well, I don't know, THE LINK TO FREAKING VOLDEMORT IN YOUR CORE?! Not that it's important or anything, just thought you might find it noteworthy."  
"...Again, shut up." Sometimes, Harry hated himself. He was such a sarcastic, condescending dick.  
With horror, Harry realized he was starting to take after Snape. Then, Snape was becoming more and more understandable to him. He didn't like the student's either, and he had no patience for fools. Harry's only problem with Snape was Snape's problem with him because of his dad. And Sirius, but Sirius was more than understandable. He had almost gotten Snape killed, after all, and Harry himself wasn't too forgiving. Fleur he forgave because he understood her and she him beyond anyone else, and he hadn't actually forgiven Ron, he was just a good actor who couldn't afford the image he put out (especially Dumbledore, who no doubt used him as a spy) by not forgiving him. He had already pushed it as far as he dared.  
Focusing on the problem at hand once more, he looked closer at the tether. He tried to manipulate it, only to find that he could actually _move_ the dark spot. The tether followed. Then he tried to see inside the dark spot. There he found a number of memories of Dark Magic, Legillimency and Parseltongue. He also found out through these memories that he couldn't be a Parselmouth because of his connection to Voldemort. He also found that originally, Parseltongue was used for incredibly powerful healing magic, as well as Shadow and Water manipulation. The first Parselmouth had been Aesculapius, known to the Muggles as a Greek God of Medicine.  
 _"And Andros' ancestor, young one"_  
Damn, that was creepy! Bu that certainly explained why he could talk to snakes. And according to Voldemort's research, the older the ancestry, the more powerful the gift was. He had theorized that a descendant of Aesculapius could probably talk to Dragons and read and write Parselscript, as well as use the legendary healer's skills in healing and elemental magic, all through the gift of Parseltongue.  
Harry reasoned that he could later access his own memories of looking through Voldemort's, so he decided that he didn't want to make his Choice with Voldemort's influence weighing down upon him. It was time to cut their connection loose and separate their minds for good.  
Harry picked up the dark spot with a look of repugnance on his face. Touching it was all he needed to do to know that its very existence was _**wrong**_. Nothing that felt like that could be natural or right. This thing was an abomination he needed to destroy. He didn't want it in him another second!  
He tried to leave his core, but the _thing_ in is hands didn't want to leave. It weighed down upon him, trying to escape his hold, hardening the barrier that ended is core, sending pain across his entire body (which was technically in his mind, where he wasn't... It was too confusing, he didn't know the particulars), but Harry wanted it gone, and despite the exhaustion and the pain, he violently threw it out of his core, dissolving the tether and causing the thing to release an inhuman screech before dissolving.

Harry came out of his trance, too exhausted to maintain it. Looking at the clock in the Library wall, he realized it had been two hours since he started his trance. "Right, Voldemort's memories, that's what did it. Must have lost track of time. I'm lucky I didn't lose any more time."  
It was lunch time, but Harry didn't go to the Dursleys'. They'd be pissed he hadn't made breakfast, and besides, he didn't have the patience to deal with his boneheaded relatives. He'd left with twenty pounds and ten galleons, he'd make do. But he didn't want to enter the wizarding world, because he was sure Dumbledore had spies everywhere that could easily and would happily tell him that the Potter brat had escaped.  
He left the Library and had lunch in a nice American diner, where he ate a bloody raw steak with French fries and flirted with the cute waitress, who was only a couple years older than him. One of the few good things about spending the summer with the Dursleys was that he could let some of his mask slip, and one of the things he kept well hidden in the wizarding world was that he'd been a shameless flirt ever since he was 13, but only because in the Muggle world no one knew him. He had no problem with feminine interest when the Boy-Who-Lived stigma wasn't there.  
Leaving the diner and heading wherever his feet led him, thinking of a place to meditate so he could make his Choice before Nightfall, he failed to notice an eagle tailing him, waiting for him to be isolated so she could deliver her message. She didn't have to wait long, as he soon found himself sitting on a bench in a public park, with no one in sight. The place just felt right.  
Before he could start meditating, though, a black and white, regal looking eagle, with a gigantic beak and wingspan, approached him and landed on the edge of the bench. Harry stared dumbstruck at the intimidating raptor, having the distinct impression that particular species wasn't found in England, or the rest of the British Isles for that matter, outside of a zoo. A really good zoo.  
Then he saw the crest in the scroll attached to her enormous leg. A cornucopia spiting golden gallons, with crossed great swords behind it, superimposed upon an exploding volcano on top of an anvil. That was Gringotts' crest, the crest of the nation of some of the greatest smiths, warriors and business "men" in the world.  
While cautiously looking at the eagle, with whom he felt an odd familiarity, he removed the scroll from her leg. Then he opened it and read its contents, after looking around to make sure no one was around to investigate the bizarre occurrence. The scroll was uncommon, as even the wizarding world had progressed to envelopes, but he guessed this was the bank's way of being extra formal.

 _ **"Esteemed Heir Potter,**_  
 _ **Our fondest greetings. Gringotts would like to extend you an invitation to attend the reading of Lord Sirius Orion Black, as not only a member of the Black House through you paternal grandmother**_ _**Dorea**_ _**Juliana Potter nee Black, but also Appointed Heir of his late Lordship Sirius Orion Black.**_  
 _ **The will reading will occur right here at**_ _**Gringotts'**_ _**branch in**_ _**Diagon**_ _**Alley, at noon tomorrow. At eleven thirty, this letter will become a**_ _**portkey**_ _**to**_ _**Gringotts, which can be activated with the sentence:**_ **"Black as starless night.".** _ **We expect your presence and hereby extend our deepest condolences for your loss. Lord Black was very popular here at**_ _**Gringotts**_ _**due to his**_ _**snarky**_ _**and direct character. He will be deeply missed, and as his Heir and one of our**_ _ **most**_ _ **esteemed**_ _ **clients, you**_ _ **may**_ _ **ask of us**_ _ **anything you need to help you in this time of grief and crisis.**_  
 _ **This letter finds you later than we would like, as**_ _**Dumbledore**_ _**has done his very worst to attempt to keep this information from reaching you. For this, we are contemplating banishing him and future descendants (but not his brother**_ _**Aberforth, who is a good friend and not half as foolish) from the bank. We thought you might like to know all this.**_  
 _ **Hoping to see you tomorrow at noon,**_  
 _ **British Isles Director and Archduke Ragnarok**_ _ **Steelburn,**_  
 _ **Diagon Alley Britain Branch Overseer and Countess Karnataka Cogwheel**_  
 _ **Black Account Manager and Baron Grok**_ _ **Snakebite**_

-Well, my predator friend... I sure as Hell didn't see that one coming, that's for sure.  
Harry realized he was talking to the eagle, who in turn seemed quite amused, but couldn't see how they'd developed such familiarity. Sure, he'd done it with Hedwig (who didn't seem quite as clever as this bird), but only after months. It was like he'd always known this damn bird, but he was positive they'd never bloody met!  
Too confusing, he didn't have the patience. Or the time, because he only had four hour till Dusk. He decided it was best to ignore the bird(who for some reason hadn't flown away yet, looking quite busy as he carefully inspected his feathers, looking positively "Hedwigish") and meditate into his mind through his magical core (which he was starting to suspect was either actually the soul, or something that shared a REALLY deep connection with it.  
Soon, his core was in front of him. Somehow, it seemed to be even larger! And given its size, if he could tell when seeing it for the second time that it was bigger, than the enlargement wasn't small. Harry realized that it was probably a consequence of severing his connection to Voldemort.  
Anyway, it had no effect upon his current priority. He quickly found the Mind-Core tether and followed it to, oddly enough, a walled lake. It looked a lot like the Black Lake, only it was slightly smaller. There was a wall all around it, and between the wall and the water there was a one street town that was actually a circle around the Lake as well. From the town came four pathways to what could only be described as a hanging garden in the center of the Lake. There was a dark forest around the wall, and the Lake was deeper and blacker than the Black Lake of Hogwarts.  
Harry was standing in the center of the garden. The voice that had spoken in his head earlier manifested itself once again:  
 _"To come upon such a place as your mind... You are a box of surprises, you know? You must truly be my Heir. In here lies your answer. You just have to know where to look, and see beyond what you see."_  
Harry groaned. "Metaphors now?", he thought. Then he decided to get to work.

Harry was frustrated. He had only twenty minutes till Dusk, and he was no closer to discovering his choice. He knew it could be Light, and it could also be Dark. But which one? Of that, he had no clue.  
The garden had housed HIS mind, with all his memories and skills and emotions. What was deeper in the mind-scape, he had no idea. When he'd tried to approach the bridges, the voice had lightly scolded him and told him that that wasn't his and was off-limits until his Choice had been made. But from the look of things, it wouldn't get made!  
His memories (contained in different plots of plants) had showed his potential for Light, but also his potential for Darkness. And they were both as strong. There was no edge. No nothing. He was balanced. Sure, he had a little more tendency towards Darkness, but less control over his Light than his Darkness (as evidenced by his "saving people thing")... Which left him back in square one. He remembered something he'd asked of his ancestor Andros ("who must be the voice", Harry thought") back in third year: "Why do I get the feeling you chose neither?"  
There was something there, but what? WHAT?!  
 _"Oh, fine. If you really need a clue, what time of day is it here?"_  
Harry looked up, confused by the question. It was dusk, or dawn, whichever. For some reason, he couldn't tell which one. He told the voice so (while feeling like an idiot for talking to the air). The voice, sounding exasperated, asked what time of day it had been when he'd arrived. Harry then realized the sky had been like this since he'd arrived.  
The voice sounded bored, but asked one last time "What does that tell you?"  
Harry could have banged his face against a wall right about then. "Good grief, it's been staring me in the face this whole time. You know what, maybe Hermione is smarter than me... Nah, she would probably be incapable of thinking outside the box. She'd just fixate on Dark and Light and never get my choice." Harry met Nightfall in his mind-scape with an annoyed look upon his face, but without a care in the world. He knew his Choice.

Unbeknownst to him, his magic was simultaneously locking up a sphere with a radius of almost a click around him, forcing out any wizards and gently compelling all Muggles to leave and stay out. Most animals left of their own volition, but the eagle stayed, standing on the shoulder of the dormant wizard, guarding his body from whomever might come. What immediate consequences would come of Harry's choice to the world around him, only the Dawn would tell.

 _ **A/N: Well, another chapter. Bet you thought all my chapters would be as small as the last one! No, they're not, but don't expect another one so big so soon. Also, responding to an anonymous review I'd like to say that yes, J. 's name is Joanne Kathleen Rowling.**_

 _ **And thank you for all your support! Almost 20 followers and 15 favorites in TWO DAYS?! You guys are just awesome… Now if only more of you would review…**_

 _ **Who can guess the eagle species? Try to guess in the reviews! Also, if anyone has any suggestions, let me know in the reviews as well! I should be able to incorporate your ideas in the details. After all, God and the Devil hide in the details, so f*** them up or f*** with them and you're pretty much F****** with a capital "F" (like so).**_

 _ **The nest chapter will be called "The Heir's Legacy". It will cover the choice, Harry's ancestors and Gringotts. I'll probably have it up by the weekend. Anyway, Idovelicus over and out, read and review, please!**_

 _ **(P.S: And try to count how many times I used the word "review" in this author's note!)**_


	3. Chapter 2: The Heir's Legacy Part 1

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Harry did not know where he was.

Objectively, if he thought about it enough, he knew he was probably exactly where he'd sat down in the park. But that was part of the _minutiae_ , and he really didn't want to think about the particulars of how or why he was here, lest he receive a migraine for his troubles. He really didn't have the patience to deal with a migraine on top of everything else, and it was a miracle he didn't already have one, with the day he'd been having thus far.

He seemed to be inside a cloud, because there was thick fog all around him. Thick, grey fog, that didn't let him see three inches in front of his nose. The ground was dry, but not very solid, like it was gravel, or sand. The air wasn't thin, so he guessed he was not very high, and this probably wasn't a cloud. Maybe he was near a river or an ocean. That might explain the ground. It wasn't cold, but then again, he couldn't see what time of day it was here (if that's even the right word), so that told him jack squat other than the fact he had been right not to wear a sweater. Which he might not even have brought with him... Oh, here comes that migraine...

Suddenly, his instincts spiked. There was someone close. He couldn't hear them, see them, or smell them, but he could _sense_ them. Maybe one, maybe more, but there were people close. Or not. They weren't necessarily people...

There! Someone in a loose, slightly over-sized grey robe with the low hood pulled up was coming. And on the other side of Harry, there was another one! And more! How had they surrounded him?!

As one, they spoke in an ethereal voice, like a dull roar, that seemed to have no origin, and spread in no direction, but was distinctly in his ears and not his mind:

 _ **-Heir you present yourself as, but your side you do not bear in your heart for all to see. To which direction do lean, claimant? To what affiliation would we give our legacy through you?**_

\- I lean toward nor Light nor Dark. I am as Grey as the robes you bear, as neutral as the blade that kills for either side or the leaf that falls for none. I live and die in Twilight, nor Breaking the Dawn if Night has not Fallen, nor Falling Dusk if Day has not Risen. By the Sun and the Moon and the sky and stars, so mote it be.

Harry felt a surge of profound... " _Rightness_ " rise within him, as if he had done what was so natural and right that nothing else would have been possible.

Andros drew back his hood, grumbling to himself that it had taken him far longer than should have been necessary.

The mist had retreated, leaving a circular space visible that probably had a ten meter radius. The ground was a sort of fine dust, gray as the robes of his ancestors and the fog around him. Around this circle stood thirteen grey thrones on the edge of the fog, forming three quarters of a circle. His ancestors (with their hoods still pulled up) headed to these thrones, where they promptly sat. Andros was in the central throne, the only one with his hood drawn back. He was clearly there to lead Harry's ancestors and act as the moderator. There was also a clear separation between three groups. The central five, the left four and the right four. Harry guessed the Grey ancestors were in the center and the other two groups were Dark and Light.

-Well, now that that's done with, let me start by saying that I'm incredibly proud of you, Harry. You truly are ly Heir, as your choice proves. I too chose Grey after that ultimatum by Ptolemy I told you about. I'm sure your parents are watching you from the veil with pride, laughing at your antics with Sirius.

Harry smiled. It felt good to hear those words.

-And now let's continue this before Dawn interrupts us. Harry James Potter, this is the moment of your Maturation. The Goblins will recognize this as the moment you become an adult, and from now on you are not a _boy_. You are a _man_. As such, the time has come for you to take your gifts from your bloodline. We, your ancestors, are here as the keepers of your gifts. Think of these as your coming of age presents. To begin with, I Andros of House Penandros, gift you the Lordship of said House. Two of my gifts you already have, your core implement that is happening as we speak, and your Choice, which you could make Grey because me blood let you. Many other would be constricted to either side by their blood. I gift you also with affinities for Charisma, Battle Instincts and Languages. So mote it be.

Harry felt a weight settle in his chest. It wasn't unpleasant, but it felt... weird.

-Because this term is going to be thrown around a lot, let me explain. Affinities aren't knowledge or power. They're... Potential. They are talent and ease, natural understanding and assimilation of certain concepts. It does not do you work for you, or give you experience. As a matter of fact, they don't teach you a damn thing. But they make you a natural at something. They also make you potential far greater, allowing you to go further in that at that something. Still, if you want to get there, you have to put in the time, effort and attention. Also, because we want you to stop hiding who you are, those affinities until you take up the Lordship and Title of whomever gave you the affinities.

Harry nodded. That made sense, and it was a great help, even if it meant working for it. Harry would honestly welcome the challenge. He had yet to be challenged by his schoolwork, which was one of the reasons it had been easy to pretend he was bored by his classes. He really was, but not because he wasn't studious like most students thought. Actually it was because he classes were too easy.

And he supposed it was time to stop letting his life be controlled by those who should have no power or control over him. It was unbecoming of him, _beneath_ him, even. It was time to take the reins, and show those who had hurt him or betrayed him just who and what they had messed with, and why it had been such a colossal mistake.

Suddenly, Harry realized his ancestor was snapping his fingers in front of him.

-Hello? You paying attention? You've been staring into space for half a minute.

-Yeah, yeah.

-Good. One last thing from me... As the Head of House Penandros, you gain a seat in the Upper Wizengamot. Think of it as the Wizarding House of Lords. My title, now yours, is The Dragon.

-So, I'm now Harry James Potter Penandros.

-Hum... We'll get there later. But given how many titles you going to inherit, you should probably just wait to the end and pick one surname. Anyway, next you'll hear from MY ancestors, and then we'll get to your fathers - he pointed to the left - and our mothers - he pointed to the right.

"Oh, so that's why they're divided."

-Wait, which one are you?

-Both your parents were descended from me (and by extension my ancestors), actually. Hence the division I'm sure you'd already seen. Moving on... Hera, you're up.

The ancestor to the left of Andros drew back her hood, revealing a regal woman with short spiked white hair and electric blue eyes. She was smiling a Harry, and Harry thought that she was probably the mothering type. She just had that look in her eyes. Which was ironic, considering one of the myths about her said she had thrown her own newborn son off a mountain. A tall mountain.

-Hello, child.

Yep, definitely the mothering type.

-I am Hera, Andros' Great-Great-Grandmother. To you, I leave bird-tongue, which you haven't discovered yet. I also leave Elemental affinities to Light, Wind, and Lightning. Finally, I gift you with the title of the Storm. That is the title of the Original Veela Friend. That is, yours truly.

-Let me guess, bird-tongue is like parseltongue, only for birds.

-Pretty much. As for the Elemental abilities... I lived three thousand years ago. We didn't have magical foci, or much of the magic you use today. We mostly used Elemental Magic. And much like Aesculapius, who is right next to me by the way, I was legendary in my specialty, the Sky: its creatures and its powers.

-Thank you for your gifts, Hera.

-Pish posh! You're my Heir, kid. And so far, you've only done me proud. The way you've taken to the sky from your very first flight makes me scream with joy... Upsetting many of my neighbors on the other side of the veil in the process.

-Alright, alright, enough, Hera... We're on a tight schedule. Artemis, come forward if you will.

From Andros' other side came another woman, this one with long, wild red hair and fierce green eyes, much like his own. They were a couple of shades lighter, though.

-I'm Artemis. I'm also an ancestor of the kid on my left.

-Hey! I'm millenniums old!

-And I'm hundreds of years older. So shut it. Now, let's get on with this. Kid, I'm older than Hera. In my time, we prayed to the Moon and Sun and did magic through Rituals. I lived in the Wild, and as such I've passed on to you affinities with Wilderness and Rituals. I also give you predator speech.

-I talk to predators of the wilds?

-Straightforward, isn't it? Yeah, kid, that's it in a nutshell. I also give you the title of the Hunt.

-First friend of whom?

-Quick at picking things up, ain't ya? First friend of the Centaurs. They'll know just by looking at you. So will the pure Veela with the Storm title, but the half bloods and quarter bloods will just be more predisposed to like you. Who knows, kid? Maybe you'll get laid. I don't recommend it with the Centaurs, I'll tell you that much.

-...Thank you... I think.

-Don't mention it, kid.

-Seriously, don't. None of us want more of that mental picture. Aesculapius, your turn.

A tall, blond man next to Hera came forward. His face was relatively handsome, and his eyes were as yellow as a snake's.

-Hello, young one. I'm Aesculapius, The Depths, and First Friend of the Merpeople. I gift you with Elemental affinities for Water and Shadow and an affinity for Healing Magic. You've already found Parseltongue, which actually works for all reptiles. Including dragons. Keep that one in mind, it might come on handy.

-Thank you for your gifts, Aesculapius.

At this point, Harry was trying not to think, lest he become lost in his own mind with the possibilities. He might have been slightly shell-shocked.

-Finally, someone does it quickly and efficiently. Hephaestus, take it away.

A hulk of a man, with black hair and beard and orange burning eyes, came forward with a laugh.

-You know, Andros, one day soon Hera will throw lightning at you. And I won't do a thin to stop it, because I'll be too busy laughing!

Andros grumbled, while Harry mused that maybe Hephaestus was also Sirius' ancestor.

-Alright, kid, let's get started. I'm Hephaestus, The Forge, First Goblin Friend, legendary smith and Elemental of Earth and Fire extraordinaire! From me, you'll get Elemental affinities with Earth and Fire, and also affinities for Crafting and Mechanics. Tied in with this is machine-speech. You can talk to all kinds of machines and understand them, draw information from them, and assimilate what makes them "tick". Useful, no?

Harry was too stunned to answer. Useful? HELL, YES! Useful was an understatement.

-And I think I'm done. Keep up the good work, kid. Tell Ragnarok I knew his Great-Great-Grandfather. Good Goblin, great smith, and better warrior.

-Thank you for your gifts, Hephaestus. Thank you so much!

He couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of his voice, though he managed to maintain a calm face.

-You're welcome, newbie. Now go out there and knock'em dead!

-Yes, yes, thank you for your input, Grandpa. Now, the central block is finished. Which one of the other blocks would you like to start with? Your mother's or your father's?

Harry thought for a second. Maybe...

-My mother's.

-Well then, let's get started, shall we?

That had come from a man on Harry's right. When he drew back hi hood, Harry almost blacked out. Because a _man_ does _not_ faint.

He recognized the man from a portrait (not a live one) at Hogwarts. It was Merlin Emrys.

Merlin stood to Harry's right, black hair flowing behind him. His irises were white, almost indistinguishable from the rest of the eyes. And he was Merlin Freaking Emrys. And he was there. And he was Harry's ancestor. And this was through his mother's bloodline, which meant Merlin's line ha squibbed out and ended with him.

Holy S***!

-I think he's hyperventilating- Aesculapius said, always the healer.

-NO! No, I'm fine, it's just... Merlin's my ancestor? _**MERLIN**_ 's my ancestor? You get my point, right?

-Yeah, kid, we'd gotten your point before you did. Just calm down so we can get on with it.

Artemis. Direct as ever.

Okay, okay, I'm calm. Let's keep going.

-Good. I am Merlin Emrys, Head of House Emrys. I pass onto you the Lordship of my House and the Wizengamot Title that comes with it: The Druid. I also gift to you Wandless Magic and Enchanting affinities. Use them well.

-Thank you, Merlin.

-My Turn! Hey kid. My name is Morgana Le Faye.

Harry was stunned. He was Merlin AND Morgana's descendant? Through the same bloodline? Now THAT was ironic.

Morgana was a very beautiful woman with long brown hair and purple eyes. She had a very enthusiastic look on her face, but nothing like the deranged look he associated with her that he'd seen on Bellatrix Lestrange's face.

-I gift you with the Lordship of House Le Faye and my Wizengamot title, the Dementor. I gift you with Metamorphing and Mind Magics affinities.

-Thank you, Lady Morgana.

That would certainly make things easier when learning to protect his mind.

She blushed.

-You're welcome, kid. Just keep doin' what you're doin'.

-Is it our turn?

Harry saw is mother's last two ancestors draw back their hoods.

Holy crap, again?

Founders. Two of Hogwarts' Founders. The worst part was that he didn't know if he should laugh or cry... Because, as it turned out, he WAS the Heir of Slytherin... Through his Muggleborn mother.

He ended up laughing.

Before him stood Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw... His mother's ancestors, apparently. Salazar had blonde hair cut short and green eyes. He was pale and thin. Rowena beside him had long black hair and deep blue eyes. She was shorter than Salazar, and curvier than any of his ancestors so far. She was almost like a Veela.

-What are you laughing about, brat? - Wow, Salazar sounded so much like an amused Snape (not that he'd ever seen something so impossible) it was almost like they were related.

-Your descendant was a Muggleborn. How could I not be laughing?

-Wait. You bought that whole Pureblood supremacy crap they said I defended? All I ever said was that we should separate Muggleborns from their families because of the extreme prejudice Muggles had against us at the time. They might abuse or outright kill their magical children! Of course, I was a little extreme, I even got into a fight with Godric once because he was an idealist who believed in full integration. I left for a while, and then came back when both he and I had mellowed out a bit and could argue with our words instead of our fists.

-... Really?

-Yes, you dunderhead. Why do you think I built the Chamber? I allowed Muggles with magical children to know of our world, but I never fully trusted them. Then again, I was biased. I was an abused Muggleborn myself, you see. So In case the Muggles ever decided they should attack the school, my familiar Ouroboros was there.

-Oh, crap, I killed your Familiar. I'm sorry, but I had to, he was going to kill me!

-Calm down, squirt. You did him a kindness. That thrice-cursed spawn of mine who idiotically calls himself Flight-From-Death made him descent into madness. Blasted idiotic bigots... My House at Hogwarts lies twisted and corrupted, a deformed version of its original splendor. I hope you will fix it, young man.

-I would be honored to be given such as a task.

And he was. Harry's inner Slytherin was crowing with pride and self-righteousness.

-Good. Now, let's see... What shall I gift you with? My Lordship and Wizengamot title are a given of course... It's The Basilisk, by the way... And what else... Ah, yes, this will do. I gift you with affinities for Alchemy, Shape-Shifting and Rogue Skills.

Harry was stunned, but not enough not to ask what his ancestor meant by Rogue Skills.

-Harry, I was a Muggleborn. I was born to a gypsy couple that traveled with their troupe through Britain some twelve hundred years ago. I discovered I had Magic when I was 8, but until then I was apprenticed to basically the whole troupe. I knew how to sneak, how steal, how to act and entertain, how to convince people of anything I wanted, how to pick a lock or a pocket, how to move silently and quickly without leaving tracks, through city and wilderness alike. I could juggle before I was 7. I was a prodigy, kid. Then I was found out as a Muggleborn. My parents abused me, tortured me. Tried to beat the Magic out of me. Worst two years of my life. Finally, my Grandfather, the leader of the troupe, helped me escape. My father killed him for it. he took control of the troupe and tried to find me, but I was gone. Years later I found them and killed my parents for trying to kill a magical child. A girl they'd captured from her magical parents (whom they had already killed before I got there). I don't like Muggles, kid. But that's me, and that's a thousand years ago. Don't let that dictate your own feelings for them. But do be careful.

-Yes, Salazar. Thank you for your gifts and your wisdom. I'll do my best to restore Slytherin to its former glory.

-Good!

-Okay, it's my turn now. I'm Rowena Ravenclaw, and my title is The Morrigan.

-I know who you are, I'd seen your portrait in Hogwarts. You had a three-eyed crow on your shoulder.

-That was Muginn, one of my familiars. The other was Huginn, a white raven. Anyway, I give my Lordship and title to you, as well affinities for Rune Magic, Logic and Deduction, and Music.

-Thank you, Lady Ravenclaw. You honor me with you gifts.

-My, such a charmer. You take after your father, young man. Veela Friend, indeed...

Harry blushed and forced that comment to disappear from his thoughts and memory, though it took all his considerable willpower to accomplish this.

Okay, lad, if you're done with your mother's ancestors, would you please come this way? We only have till Dawn, you know?

Harry turned around. And wouldn't you know it, he was looking straight at the short black hair and beard and light-blue eyes of Arthur bloody Pendragon.

Before Harry stood who he assumed would be the only non-magical of his ancestors here, King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, wielder of Excalibur. There was only one question he could ask.

-What did Excalibur look like?

Hephaestus, Arthur, Andros and someone with the hood still on laughed. Everyone else gave only a weary sigh as a response.

-It was actually called Caliburn, and you'll see soon enough. After all, it'll be in the vault you'll get to reclaim as Lord Pendragon. Another title for you, by the way: The Swordsman. I gift you with affinities for Rhetoric, Military Strategy and Weapon Wielding. I was a second generation squib, you're a second generation wizard. Funny the way life turns out.

Harry was still trying to get over the fact he was the Heir of King Arthur, so as many times before that night, his eloquence was kept to a bare minimum as he automatically said:

-Thank you for your gifts, your Majesty.

A roar echoed through the room.

-My turn!

Before Harry stood a tall and bulky man with brown eyes and long, flaming red hair. He had a fierce grin plastered on his face. Godric Giffindor in all his glory.

Harry stared at the Founder of his own House, the Original Gold and Red Lion of Griffindor. It was mind-boggling that this was happening to him. Most Griffindors couldn't even dream of this, let alone experience it! It was a truly humbling sight.

-Get your act together and let's get going, lad!-The Founder shouted, excited. The other ancestors seemed either amused by his exuberance or tired of it. - Not long till Dawn hits us! I gift you the Lordship of Griffindor, as well as my Title: The Griffin! Finally, I gift you with affinities for Summoning and Warding.

-Finally! I thought Godric would never stop shouting...

A bored voice seemed to drill its way into Harry's ears, which was disconcerting. A tall, black haired man red eyes who looked remarkably like Sirius stepped forward. His gaze was steady and neutral, as if he was still making up his mind about Harry. Which was very possible, when he thought about it.

-My name, child, is Orion Black, Founder of House Black. I pass onto you this Lordship and the Title of the Cerberus. As for the rest... we shall see. Lift up your arm.

Harry did so, trying to figure out what the Black Lord was going to do. Before he could, though, it had already been done. The man had seeped a sharp nail across the back of his elbow and drawn blood, which he quickly put to his mouth. Harry saw the slightly sharper than normal teeth before he closed his mouth around his finger, only to slide it out.

-Yes, your blood holds possibilities... very well, child. I approve of you. Try not to prove me wrong. I gift you with Necromancy, Divination, Vampiric and Lycan affinities. In your inheritance test, which you will take tomorrow before my descendant's will, there will be a surprise for. After the will, you will come to the Black Vault and speak to my portrait about it. Are we understood?

Harry shivered, his voice was so cold. Something about his ancestor was unnerving to an abnormal degree, and Harry was inclined to believe that he hadn't been quite human even before he died.

Turning to his last ancestor, he saw a beautiful purple-eyed woman, her long hair the same color as Hera's. She stood with a commanding posture that instantly demanded respect. Something about her spoke to his very soul and to his blood.

-Ah, it would seem it falls to me to gift you last, even though you bear my name. I am Diana Peverell, Founder of House Peverell. I would gift you my lordship, but your father already has. I would ask, however, that you bring its name back from Potter to Peverell. I am partial to it. I gift you with my title, The Thestral, and affinities for Blood magic and Soul Magic.

And with those closing words, all Harry's ancestors disappeared except for Andros, who approached him and knelt down as the fog encircled them again, thinner now than ever before.

-Harry, our time draws near. Soon, the rays of the Sun will wake you. But first, you should know that Dumbledore blocked some of your mother's influence on you after the attack on your parents. It has made you more reckless, and restrained your temper and determination. It has also had a physical impact on you. As a parting gift, your other ancestors and I have destroyed that block, and the mistreatment that the Dursleys have visited upon you. When you wake up, you will no longer be a scrawny malnourished kid. You will be a healthy young man. And that leads us to my next point. Harry, you may now, if you wish, pick a new name, including a surname. The Goblins and the Wizengamot will recognize this, and it will be your legal and true name. It will be who you are. But once this is done, it cannot be undone. You may choose to use one of your Lordships as a surname, but that is not necessary.

Harry thought long and hard. This was a great opportunity. He had to let go of his mask, after all. And Harry Potter _was_ the mask.

But on the other hand, his name had been one of the only gifts his parents had ever given him. He was loath to let it go.

Inevitably, though, he was his parents' son, not his name. Whatever his name, he would still be their son. But what would he be called...

Merlin... What was that name he had been called by certain tribe that Hermione had ranted about?

Myrrdin.

-My surname is Myrrdin.

-A good name, young man. A strong name that speaks of wisdom and ancient blood.

Myrrdin felt good about it. It _was_ his name, no way around it. But his given name (by himself) still eluded him.

Then he felt a pull towards something Orion Black had said about the surprise in his Inheritance Test, and that led him to a name he had somehow pulled from thin air in that memory. he had nothing that would suggest how he had thought about it, but it was _right_.

He told Andros his name, and Andros smiled.

-Yes... That _is_ you. Goodbye, my Heir. You can find me and all of your Bloodline in the city by the Lake in your mind. Until then... Enjoy the light of your first dawn as a man and your true self.

And he vanished like Harry's other ancestors before him. Then the fog dissipated and harry realized he had been in the the center of his garden all along. The thrones were dissipating in front of his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, there was an annoying brightness beaming onto them that he couldn't find.

And then Gabriel Myrrdin woke up to his first Dawn.

 _ **A/N: Chapter 2 out of the way! I wanted to do more, but tis chapter was getting too long. Don't worry, tough, I think I can still get Gringotts to y'all by the weekend. Also, Familiar. And GLORIOUS CHAOS!**_

 _ **Almost no one tried to guess (which is disappointing), but the species of eagle was Steller's Sea Eagle, a Japanese National Treasure.**_

 _ **I'm sorry about all the dialogue in this one, but it was kind of inevitable. I hope the way I did it reassures people- I'm not trying to make Harry overpowered. He will be powerful, and might become overpowered AFTER the events of the story itself. But it's not instantaneous, it requires the work and the time to be spent. Oh, and yes, Harry will no longer be referred to as "Harry", but as "Gabriel", or "Myrrdin". Deal with it.**_

 _ **If you have any suggestions, feel free to post them in a review! Either way, let me know what you think! Idovelicus over and out, thank you for reading!**_


	4. Chapter 2: The Heir's Legacy Part 2

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Gabriel woke up to the glory of Dawn bursting with energy and good mood.  
And then he noticed the destruction around him.

For almost thirty feet around him there was nothing but blackened, burned soil. Ashes of the life that had occupied that space the night before still floated in the air, though most had already settled on the ground. Gabriel realized he had been lying down, the wood of the bench probably burned with the rest. But he wasn't alone.  
Next to him stood a bigger version of the eagle that had delivered his Hogwarts letter (which was safe in his pocket, thankfully). Yet she looked different. It _was_ her, that much Gabriel knew, but how, no clue.  
Actually, that wasn't true. He felt the same familiarity with the bird that he had felt the previous evening, only it was now even stronger. And then something within him snapped, and Gabriel heard a soft, calm, feminine voice thunder in his head, weirdly warm despite its gelid feel.  
-'/ Finally, buddy. I was wondering when you were going to let me in! /'  
Gabriel was stunned, as much by the unique voice as by its existence. One, a voice most likely belonging to the bird in front of him had echoed in his mind. Two, despite the fact that the voice was incredibly weird, it had felt familiar and comforting. That led him only to one conclusion.  
-'/Are you my Familiar? /'- he spoke in his mind.  
-'/Obviously! Now how about you close your mouth before something flies in and name me? The sooner you do it, the less messy this will be. /'  
Gabriel had to hand it to her, she could compete with Artemis in straightforwardness. But he wasn't about to name her after his ancestor.  
Looking at her, trying to discern some unique feature he could work with, he noticed that she looked quite different than before. Where before her shoulders, paws and tail had been white against the black of her head, body and wings, they were now _crackling_ white. Sparks of lightning seemed to run across her white feathers. The black portion of her body had gone dark blue, like dark ice. A tin permanent layer of hoarfrost seemed to cover these feathers. Her golden talon seemed to have the same electricity as the white feathers. Her incredibly large beak seemed sharper than ever, gold as the talons, and her golden eyes had gone lightning blue. They shined like lightning too, which was an amazing sight.  
-What happened to you?  
Gabriel hadn't been able to avoid voicing the thought, but apparently is Familiar had no problems understanding English.  
-'/Oh, this? I actually have you to thank for this. Last night your magic locked down a radius of 33 hundred feet around you, but despite the fact that you had not yet recognized me as your Familiar, it let me stay. I stood watch over you, but your Maturation had an... Explosive outcome. Your magic exploded from its growth, and destroyed everything around you, but because of our incomplete bond, I absorbed much of the excess magic and used to destroy the blocks on my true nature and on my Elemental affinity. As such, instead of the sea eagle you saw yesterday, I now stand before you a proud Lightning-aligned Blizzwing! /'  
Gabriel saw the smile (he knew it was a smile, but it seemed like the former sea eagle was twisting her beak in a strange fashion. It resembled a grin... sort of) on is Familiar's face, but wasn't any less confused. Yes, that explained the cracking ant the eyes, but what on bloody Earth was a Blizzwing?  
-'/ You realize I can hear your thoughts, right? /'- She sounded incredibly amused.  
-'/Right. Well then, what IS a Blizzwing? /'  
-'/I thought you'd never ask! You know of Phoenixes, yes? We're the water and ice equivalent to the burned chickens. We're far rarer, far more powerful, and far more beautiful, if I say so myself. /'  
Gabriel smirked. The bloody bird was as vain as Hedwig! Who might not appreciate competition, now that he thought about it...  
-'/I'm sure she won't have a problem. And f she does, I'll hold her down until she's calmed down and you get a chance to explain yourself. We've been speaking in bird-tongue, I'm sure you'll manage a civil, two-sided discussion with her. /'  
Gabriel glanced at the Blizzwing. She could do it. Easily, in fact. She looked like she weighed over twenty pounds, and she was about four feet long, more than half his height! Her talons were almost half as long as Hedwig was large, too. And Gabriel hadn't even seen her wingspan, but her wings looked pretty big to him, even folded as they were.  
Then he realized he _had_ been speaking bird-tongue. Bloody Hell, when had that happened?  
-'/Well? Shall we go deal with those horrible relatives of yours? /'

Gabriel stood outside his relatives' door. He was trying to gather his wits before walking in. He wasn't quite sure what their reaction to is new looks would be.  
On his way back to Privet Drive, he had seen his reflection in a large puddle of water. Gabriel Myrrdin did NOT look like Harry Potter.

Harry Potter had been small, skeletal and had a soft round face with green eyes and short, untamed black hair. Gabriel Myrrdin stood tall at five foot nine inches, almost a foot taller than Harry Potter. His hair, black and dark red like both his father AND mother, fell down to his mid-back and was straight like his mum's had been. His face looked now a more like James' than before, angular and chiseled like it had been cut from stone. He was no longer scrawny either, he looked... fit. Not ripped, but fit. He now filled his hand-me-downs in eight, even if he still wasn't as large as his cousin. He looked... dare he say it... handsome.

His glasses also seemed to have outlived their usefulness, as Gabriel apparently had no need of them to have perfect 20/20 vision. Which was good, because if Harry's eyes had been pretty, Gabriel's were beautiful, even mesmerizing. They shined far brighter than Harry's and showed a presence that Gabriel's mask had never had. And best of all, that accursed scar was gone! A were all of his scars, actually.

Gabriel slowly breathed in and out, willing himself to remain calm and collected. Then he entered the house, announcing he was back to whomever was in the house. Cursing softly, he realized he'd forgotten an important detail: Gabriel's voice was deeper and richer than Harry's, almost melodic. He had to hand it to his ancestors, they really knew what they were doing, because they did GREAT work.  
Luckily, though, no one seemed to be home. Which worked out great for Gabriel. He quickly made his way to his room, where he saw that all of his things were gone. Then he saw through the window that there was a fire burning with all his things in it down in e backyard. Thankfully, everything important he kept in his chest, which was locked and only he could open. Also, it was nonflammable.  
But there was something in Harry's bedroom (Gabriel didn't want himself directly associated with the room, the house or the inhabitants). And that something was a dying Hedwig.  
-NO! HEDWIG!  
Gabriel rushed to his first friend, on the verge of tears. Hedwig looked AWFUL. Her eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, her mouth was foaming, and she was lying on her side, barely breathing.

-'/ From what I can understand, she's hooting that she the Dursleys poisoned her... On the orders of what Hedwig calls the evil twinkling elder. /'

-Dumbledore... He's trying to push me into madness. Then he can just push me towards whoever he wants like a rabid dog... I'll bet you his plan was making me think it was Voldemort or his Death Eaters. They'll probably attack soon, Dumbledore will have leaked my location and removed my relatives so I can be attacked here and he can save me.

Gabriel would have gotten up and left, but he couldn't just leave Hedwig... To die alone. He owed it to her to stay by her side to the end. Of course, he wouldn't stop his newfound Familiar if she wanted to leave. She'd never known Hedwig, after all, and it might get dangerous if he was right and an attack was incoming. He didn't want anything to his new friend. It was perhaps the only thing of his mask that wasn't completely fake: he really _did_ care about his friends and tried to protect them. It was just that he considered very few people as members of that category.

The Blizzwing scoffed at him.

-/'As if I'm going to leave in a possible attack site! No, I'll leave when you leave. /'

They stood there for nearly an hour, waiting for Hedwig to die. But right before she did, she revealed one last surprise to the young wizard, as she burst into flames that didn't burn her. She was becoming a Phoenix! For a moment, Gabriel dared hope that maybe he wouldn't lose Hedwig. That hope came crashing down, burnt to ashes, when the newborn Phoenix still looked like she was dying. The poison was still killing her, and Phoenixes couldn't heal themselves. Only be reborn from their ashes, but that didn't seem to help Hedwig.

Hedwig the Phoenix agonized for almost three hours after her birth, her flames keeping Harry warm, but her song only managing to inspire mourning, heartbreak and righteous fury. By twenty past eleven, she seemed about to take her last breath. But then, her song and her fire intensified, before she burst into bloody tears that the other bird drank at her apparent bequest. Then the Blizzwing screeched as her eyes shone with tears and her plumage seemed to burn blue. Then she started to sing, a song of mourning, of heartbreak, sacrifice, vengeance and fury, of blood-lust and freedom. And then the song showed some of the Blizzwing's themes, of cold, and the sea, and diving as lightning bolt on her pray, and of the fjords of her infancy. Hedwig had given her song, her blood and tears and her fire to Gabriel's Familiar.

Right then and there, Gabriel _saw_ his Familiar for the first time, and named her as she was to his eyes.

Her name was Skyfjord.

Hedwig died at 11:29 A.M., one minute before Gabriel's letter activated and brought him to a private meeting in Gringotts, where the Goblins who awaited him saw before them a young man with eyes so haunted and so dead that they wondered if was a ghost or a corpse. Gabriel felt as if he was both. Skyfjord sang to him, bringing his spirits up, if they did make him a little bloodthirsty. But his Familiar thought his targets more than deserving of it, so she didn't let his change of heart bother her much. He was quickly taking after her, anyway, and when his rage truly hit, it would hit cold. And his vengeance would be a true Slytherin _vendetta_.

-Mr. Potter, I assume.

The middle Goblin has said this. There were three, two male and a female. They were dressed in expensive suits that looked like they were Armani. The suits were completely black. The female wore a business suit of the same coloring.

-My name-he said, his voice as dark and cold as a Norther Blizzard- is Gabriel Myrrdin. You'll find that my name _was_ Harry James Potter, until last night. As of earlier this morning, my name is Gabriel Myrrdin. I'm sure your records will easily confirm this. In the meantime, while your underlings check them, I would like to perform an Inheritance Test. I have reason to believe I am Heir to certain bloodlines that would require said test to reveal themselves.

The Goblins shivered at his tone. He was nothing if not polite, but still managed to assert a very clear sense of his power on the other occupants of the room, which was suited for that type of action, actually, as it was bare except for the white marble table, elliptical in shape, that contrasted with the black floor and ceiling and light grey walls. In short, the Goblins felt as if they were in his territory instead of the other way around.

-What proof would this be, Mr. Myrrdin? - Ragnarök inquired of the sixteen year old, being the least intimidated of the three. He was, after all, an Archduke of the Goblin Nation, and that meant he was by definition not just a very powerful political figure, but also a truly fearsome warrior. Nevertheless, this boy... No, this _man_ unnerved him. He was just glad he seemed to be calm and not even the least bit angry at them. He wasn't sure he would like to see the boy angry. Very few wizards could reach that... _Coldness_ that permeated him. Most of them were fearsome, if difficult to truly anger. They were ruthless, however, which made even annoying them dangerous. Plus his bird was impressive. A Blizzwing! He hadn't seen one... _ever_. He thought they'd been extinct!

Myrrdin fixed a cold gaze upon the goblin, his green eyes almost appearing iced over.

-Give me my Inheritance Test, Director, and you will know...

He finished his sentence with a cold, amused smirk. It gave all three Goblins the willies.

Five minutes later, the Archives had confirmed that his new name was indeed Gabriel Myrrdin and that he was not only no longer called Harry James Potter, but he had been legally reborn, which meant that while all of his properties, rights and inheritances were transferred to Gabriel, as well as any debts, all contracts and alliances and responsibilities were officially null and void. And as someone without a family, he was solely responsible for himself, having therefore total authority over the Potter bloodline. And the Potter bloodline had been reborn with him, meaning it also had a clear slate.

Gabriel gave the Goblins a cold grin when they explained this. Yes... This would come in handy very soon. Dumbledore was now powerless to directly control him.

The Goblins had also brought Magnejrr Ironside, the Potter Account Manager, to the meeting, and he had brought the materials necessary for an Inheritance Test. The runic carved dagger to draw Gabriel's blood, the black parchment needed to show the results, and the Chalice of the Written Blood. Harry immediately slashed his left hand with the dagger, letting the blood flow until it had filled the chalice. Then he closed the wound and set his magic to healing him. The Goblins were slightly impressed, as this showed a control beyond his age, but it was nothing they'd never seen in greater magnitude beforehand. The blood turned white and started swirling in the cup, before Ragnarök threw it on the parchment, where it assembled itself into the results, the result clearly readable due to the contrast between the pitch black parchment and the snow white blood-ink.

 _ **INHERITANCE TEST**_

 _ **NAME: GABRIEL ALUCARD MYRRDIN**_

 _ **GENDER: MALE**_

 _ **AGE: SIXTEEN**_

 _ **SPECIES: HYBRID (HALF MAGUS (REPRESSED); HALF LYCANPIRE (DORMANT))**_

 _ **FAMILIAR: SKYFJORD, A LIGHTNING ORIENTED BLIZZWING WITH A BENIGN PHOENIX SOUL-SHARD**_

 _ **CLOSE RELATIVES:**_

 _ **FATHER- JAMES CHARLES POTTER- DECEASED**_

 _ **MOTHER- LILLIAN RACHEL POTTER NEE EVANS- DECEASED**_

 _ **GRANDFATHER- CHARLES MORIA POTTER- DECEASED**_

 _ **GRANDMOTHER- DOREA JULIANA POTTER NEE BLACK**_

 _ **ANCESTORS:**_

 _ **PEVERELL (AKA POTTER)- HEIR OF DIANA PEVERELL**_

 _ **PENANDROS- HEIR OF ANDROS THE INVINCIBLE**_

 _ **EMRYS- HEIR OF MERLIN EMRYS**_

 _ **PENDRAGON- HEIR OF ARTHUR PENDRAGON**_

 _ **LE FAYE- HEIR OF MORGANA LE FAYE**_

 _ **GRIFFINDOR- HEIR OF GODRIC GRIFFINDOR**_

 _ **SLYTHERIN- HEIR OF SALAZAR SLYTHERIN**_

 _ **RAVENCLAW- HEIR OF ROWENA RAVENCLAW**_

 _ **BLACK- HEIR OF ORION BLACK**_

 _ **VAN HELSING DRACULA- HEIR OF ALUCARD VAN HELSING DRACUL**_

 _ **TITLES:**_

 _ **THE DRAGON, LORD PENANDROS**_

 _ **THE THESTRAL, LORD PEVERELL**_

 _ **THE DRUID, LORD EMRYS**_

 _ **THE SWORDSMAN, LORD PENDRAGON**_

 _ **THE DEMENTOR, LORD LE FAYE**_

 _ **THE GRIFFIN, LORD GRIFFINDOR**_

 _ **THE BASILISK, LORD SLYTHERIN**_

 _ **THE MORRIGAN, LORD RAVENCLAW**_

 _ **THE CERBERUS, LORD BLACK**_

 _ **THE LYCANPIRE, LORD VAN HELSING DRACUL**_

 _ **THE STORM, VEELA FRIEND**_

 _ **THE HUNT, CENTAUR FRIEND**_

 _ **THE DEPTHS, MERPEOPLE FRIEND**_

 _ **THE FORGE, GOBLIN FRIEND**_

 _ **PROPERTIES:**_

 _ **PENANDROS:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- OLYMPUS DRACONIUS (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT)**_

 _ **SHARES-NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS: VAULT 0**_

 _ **PEVERELL:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- PEVERELL MANOR (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT); POTTER RETREAT (GODRIC'S HOLLOW), DESTROYED**_

 _ **SHARES- DAILY PROPHET (49%); FLOURISH AND BLOTTS (25%)**_

 _ **VAULTS: VAULT 8, POTTER TRUST VAULT (678)**_

 _ **EMRYS:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- EMRYS GROVE (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 5**_

 _ **PENDRAGON:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- PENDRAGON TOWER (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 6**_

 _ **LE FAYE:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- LE FAYE BARROW (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 7**_

 _ **GRIFFINDOR:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- GRIFFIN'S DEN (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT), HOGWARTS (25%)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 1**_

 _ **SLYTHERIN:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- BASILISK'S CHAMBER (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT), HOGWARTS (25%)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 2**_

 _ **RAVENCLAW:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- THE ROOKERY (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT), HOGWARTS (25%)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 3**_

 _ **BLACK:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- MIDNIGHT TOMB (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT), GRIMMAULD PLACE Nº12**_

 _ **SHARES- BORGIN AND BURKE'S (35%), OLLIVANDER'S (40%)**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT 9**_

 _ **VAN HELSING DRACUL:**_

 _ **PROPERTIES- BLOODMOON HALL (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT), TWILIGHT COTTAGE (LOCATION HIDDEN WITHIN VAULT)**_

 _ **SHARES- NONE**_

 _ **VAULTS- VAULT**_ _ **Ω (LOCATION UNKNOWN, NOT AT GRINGOTTS. INFORMATION MAY BE FOUND WITHIN THE BLACK VAULT, BUT THIS IS UNCONFIRMED)**_

 _ **VASSAL HOUSES:**_

 _ **PENANDROS- OURANUS, FRUOSINO, CESARE**_

 _ **PEVERELL- WEASLEY**_

 _ **EMRYS- FLITWICK**_

 _ **PENDRAGON- BONES**_

 _ **LE FAYE- GREENGRASS**_

 _ **GRIFFINDOR- Mac GONNAGALL**_

 _ **SLYTHERIN- SLUGHORN**_

 _ **RAVENCLAW- LOVEGOOD**_

 _ **BLACK- LUPIN**_

 _ **VAN HELSING DRACUL- VALERIOUS, TEPES, NOSFERATUM, SELYCANIS**_

To say the Goblins were shocked would be like saying the Holocaust was violent. Gabriel had been a little surprised as well. He figured the blood of Alucard was the surprise Orion Black had been referring too. He would have to address many things in his results later. He and the Goblins were going to have a LONG talk, that was for sure. But he doubted he was going to have time to do that AND speak to Sirius' shade before the Will Reading. He only had ten minutes left 'till the damn thing started!

-I would like to speak to my Godfather's shade before the Will, as I wish to discuss certain matters concerning the distribution of his assets with him.

-Certainly, my lord. Come this way, if you please.

-Account Manager Snakebite, there is no need for that. Mr. Myrrdin shall suffice.

Gabriel's voice wasn't as cold, though it was certainly just as emotionless. It was still not the Goblin's cup of tea, but he could deal with it. Far better than dealing with a Malfoy in Snakebite's book. He led Harry to the room where the Will Reading would occur. The shade of Sirius already strolled across the room impatiently. Gabriel felt a pang of grief in his heart. He was forcing himself to remain functional until he could break down in morning, but seeing Sirius was both good and bad for him.

Sirius looked up while pacing across the room, waiting for the reading of his Will, when his Account Manager waltzed in with a tall young man, who looked like James even more than Harry. He still had Lily's eyes, though WAIT WHAT?

-HARRY?! Merlin's breaches, pup, what happened to you? You looked like Moody trained you for five years!

Gabriel laughed and said:

-Don't worry, Snuffles, it hurt a hell of a lot less than that. And it's not Harry anymore. It's Gabriel. Gabriel Alucard Myrrdin.

Sirius understood in an instant.

-You went through your choice, didn't you? I thought you would after third year. It was part of my family legends. By your middle name, I assume you know of our more... infamous heritage.

-I figured it was Black blood that gave me that! And i didn't pick my middle name, I only picked Gabriel Myrrdin. Alucard just appeared on my Inheritance Test.

Sirius' jaw fell and stayed down.

-You're kidding? I thought that was impossible...

Gabriel frowned. That could have unforeseen circumstances. That wasn't good. But he decided to temporarily ignore it. Besides, he wasn't ready to face Sirius yet, and just being near him made his walls crumble before the grief.

-...Sirius, I'm sorry.

-For what, pup?

-It's... my fault you're dead. I was lured into a trap...

-At the Department of Mysteries, I know, I remember. It's not your fault, pup. I died protecting you. That was all I was still alive to do, after thirteen years of Azkaban. Believe me, if you had died, I would have probably followed. It's not your fault, it's Bella's fault. So NEVER blame yourself, alright? There was nothing you could do, and no better choice to be made. Gabriel, you need to understand this. It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Got it memorized?

Gabriel swallowed his grief and his tears and said in a soft voice:

-Yeah Padfoot. I'll remember.

Then remembering what he had gone there to do in the first place, he asked Sirius:

-Sirius, what did you leave Hermione, the Weasleys and Dumbledore?

Sirius sported an enormous grin as he answered:

-Dumbledore? The finger. Molly? A book on how to use one's indoor voice and another dealing with control freak issues. Ginny? A book on the Bat Bogey Hex and a vault with a couple thousand Galleons she can't access until she's seventeen. Ron? A book on etiquette, with an emphasis on table manners. Percy? Nothing. Arthur? A few Muggle books on electronics for dummies. Bill? A book on Gobbledygook and a few thousand galleons. Charles? A book on rare and extinct dragon breeds and a couple thousand galleons. Gred and Forge got the Marauder Journals and twenty thousand galleons. Hermione got two books: "LET'S LEAVE THE LIBRARY!" and "WHY I SHOULD KEEP MY NOSE OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE'S BUSINESS". Don't ask me how I found them, you really don't want to know...

Gabriel stared. That was... _PERFECT!_ He laughed so hard it was hard to breathe. Sirius laughed right alongside him, up until the point they realized that they had about two minutes until the doors opened. Gabriel filled Sirius in to what his day had been so far, letting his grief for Hedwig show. Sirius was pissed that he was dead and could not kill Dumbledore slowly and painfully. Then they made their game plan for the Will Reading.

-Alright, I am your second cousin and Harry's second cousin as well, and because Harry Potter is dead, and he is, since I was legally reborn, I am your Heir... and the Potter Heir. Also, try to leave me for last. I'll be hiding in the shadows.

-Spoken like a Marauder, pup. We'll do it your way.

Gabriel retreated to a shadowed corner of the room and sat down with a book the Goblins had given him that was called "So you just found out you're a Noble Heir?"

And the doors opened.

Dumbledore was pissed. He'd barely made it in time, and all because that bloody brat was gone. He'd found the ashes of his owl in the room, but no Death Eaters (unbeknownst to him, they had come two minute too late to attack Harry and left when they found nothing, two minutes before Dumbledore himself came to Surrey) and no Harry. The ashes were dead Phoenix ashes. Hedwig had been a Phoenix, then? He hadn't even suspected. She must have been unlocked by the poison, but too little too late.

But more importantly, where was the brat?

He tracked back the Death Eaters' Apparition, but they didn't have him either. This did not look good... Besides, it had almost made him lose the Will Reading, and that was unacceptable. After all, he had to contest Sirius' Will so he could make himself Heir and distribute Sirius' estate as he saw fit. Which would be hard enough in ideal circumstances, let alone if he was actually tardy! The Goblins would have a worse predisposition towards him, and his pawns in Gringotts had zero influence in this.

Ron could barely wait for Sirius' Will Reading to start. He might get food! Wait, did that even make any sense? Ron scoffed. Now, he was starting to sound like Hermione!

Hermione wondered why Sirius had never mentioned the Will to her. She would know best how to properly redistribute Sirius' estate! Wasn't she the top student? Why would he keep it a secret? Had he been going Dark?

Remus wandered in with his heart heavy, saddened at the loss of one his oldest friends, and in fact one the few he had left.

Molly wondered she would be able to get the title of Lord Black from Harry once he and Ginny married...

Fred and George made their way into the room, barely functional. They had loved Sirius like a second father. He had been their mentor since their sixth year, and their guide to Hogwarts since their first year through the map. They were second generation Marauders, and to lose their mentor was hard.

Percy wondered what Sirius would give him. After all, it was wise to curry favor with him for his Godson. He _was_ going to be big in the Ministry after all.

Bill walked in feeling a little sad. Sirius had been one of the good ones, one of the men he'd looked up to the most, and now he was gone. Worse, almost a third of his family could care less, after living at his house and fighting by his side. Charlie agreed with him, and the two brother were really disappointed in their mother and brothers. At least Ginny and the twins cared.

Ginny was entering the room with her head down. Sirius had been supportive of her from the very start. He'd taught her the Bat Bogey Hex, her signature move, and encouraged her to come out of the closet. Of course, Hermione hadn't even wanted to think about it. But that didn't matter anymore, because Ginny had broken up with her after the school year was over. She was considering asking Luna out.

Arthur looked at all of his family, having trouble finding anything to smile to lift him from his grief over Sirius' death. The Black Lord was one of the few people in the Wizarding World who shared Arthur's passion for the Muggle one. Of course, Sirius was much more knowledgeable about it than the Weasley patriarch. He had built his bike from scratch. And what a piece of art it was... A testament to his friend's brilliance, really.

Fleur walked into the room, hoping to see Harry. She thought her friend might need some comfort. After all, this was his Godfather's Will Reading. Besides, she hadn't heard from him all summer, and she was starting to get worried.

Narcissa entered the room, wondering what her cousin wanted with her. She was married to a convicted Death Eater, after all, as much a she didn't like it. Why he would contemplate her in his Will, she had no idea. She saw her sister Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora come inside as well. They were probably going to be placed back in the House of Black, which Narcissa thought was great. She never had any problems with Ted Tonks. She had hated her mother's decision to disown Andromeda, but there was nothing she could do. After all, she too was being sent to Hell, but in her case, it was through an arranged marriage to an abusive ponce called Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.

Sirius was ecstatic. Everyone was here! But how would he ask it of her... Idiot, just leave her something written! He was definitely going to tell her anyway. Problems solved themselves if you thought clearly about them. Good thing too, if they didn't things would be difficult. After all, he _was_ dead.

Gabriel hadn't expected Fleur to be there. He suddenly found he was still looking forward to that date... Maybe... No, he should _definitely_ tell her. Narcissa was the real surprise, though. Why had Sirius wanted her here? Oh well, he would find out with everybody else, he supposed.

Black Account Manager and Baron Grok Snakebite was almost sniggering. If he was anywhere near right about the current situation, and he liked to think that was likely, than this would be a pretty amusing Will Reading. But then again, he hoped Myrrdin's anger would not be provoked inside the Bank. He certainly wasn't going to ask him to pay for the hypothetical damage in person... Or in a letter, for that matter.

-Hello! It's nice to see all of you, though I'd wager it's a little depressing for you to see me.

Sirius stopped there, apparently waiting for laughter. He got none.

-Tough crowd... Well, if you want to get down to business, then have it your way. Hermione Jean Granger, to you I leave two books I selected and procured especially for you. The first is called "Let's Leave the Library!" It's an urgent read for you, obviously. The second is even more important: "Why I should keep my nose out of other people's business". Please rad both of them at your earliest convenience. Preferably outside the library.

Hermione huffed, shocked and outraged at this disrespect and mockery of her genius. Most people laughed, however.

-To Ronald Bilious Weasley, I leave a book on etiquette, focusing on table manners. Again, it's an urgent read. For the sake of everyone around you, at least skim through it before your next meal.

Again, most laughed. Ron looked confused.

-To Ginevra Weasley, I leave a book on the Bat Bogey Hex and two thousand Galleons that can only be accessed by her, and that after her seventeenth birthday. Good luck out there, kid, and hex any guy that comes near.

Ginny was almost at the point of balling her eyes out, while Molly was quite offended and worried. That wouldn't let her held herself to those two thousand Galleons and might make Ginny less agreeable to marriage, which simply wouldn't do. Ron and Hermione looked jealous.

-To Fred Gideon and George Fabian Weasley, I leave the Marauders Journals and twenty thousand galleons, hoping that you will make the Marauder name proud and never stop doing what you love, the greatest lesson your family taught me.

The twins laughed and beamed a Sirius' shade, giving him a malicious grin that told him all he needed to know. Molly one again didn't like where this was going. Ron and Hermione looked jealous once more, while Percy puffed out his chest and gave a patronizing smile to those around him, expecting his turn to come next. He was right, not that did him much good.

-To Percival Weasley, I leave the following words: Get your inflated head out of your self-important ass! ...That is all.

Percy's jaw fell, while most of the room burst into laughter. Molly was shocked, outraged, and offended, even. Ron was still confused from his part, he didn't want to think about his git of a brother too. Hermione couldn't believe Sirius had said, it, mostly because she still equated Percy with the position of Prefect and Head Boy, which she equated with authority, respect and success. It was her dream! And Sirius had just dragged her prime example through the mud!

-To Bill and Charlie I leave three thousand Galleons each, plus this piece of advice: don't settle down too early. Enjoy every phase of your life to the fullest before moving on. No one gets a redo. Also, I leave a book on Gobbledygook to Bill and a book on rare and extinct dragon species to Charlie. Good luck, boys. Keep doing what you want to do.

Bill and Charlie were ecstatic and profusely thanked Sirius, promising to follow his advice. Molly was angrier than she'd ever been in this Will Reading. How dare he advise them to remain single! They had to marry nice girls from good families that Molly picked! Ron and Hermione looked jealous once more.

-To Narcissa Black, for I prefer not to call you by Lucius' name, I say this: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't stop my mother. I'm sorry you had to be subjected to that for so many years. I offer you the chance to divorce him and be welcomed back into the Black family. If you think Draco has more of you than his father, than you can bring him with you. But I ask, and I understand how hard that is to consider, that you do not bring a Malfoy with you. If he is more Lucius than Narcissa, than please, for the family and yourself... Don't. Don't bring him. Let him be with monster that spawned him. He will always be a hold Lucius had on you.

Narcissa was crying by now. She couldn't help it. She wasn't even sure why she was crying, grief for her favorite cousin or happiness at his very last gift to her. But she cried all the same, even after her eldest sister came to hug her, and her niece too. Molly looked judgmental and haughtily disapproving. Dumbledore was pissed, after all this went against his plans! Ron was incapable of understanding what was going on. Hermione was insulted at the barbaric attitude of "welcoming her back to the family". In civilized society that wouldn't even be necessary, and she found it incredibly patronizing. She was of course incapable of appreciating the irony of inner monologue.

-Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks, I welcome you back into the Black family, along with Theodore Tonks, if that is what all of wish. You should have never been disowned to begin with.

Andromeda and Tonks were now openly crying with Narcissa.

-Fleur, I leave you with five thousand Galleons and a letter my Account Manager has just finished reading. I want you to read it after my Godson is first mentioned in this Will Reading.

-Remus Lupin, you old bag of fleas! I leave you the Black Hollow, an ancestral wilderness home of House Black. There, you will find everything necessary to use my family's ancestry to get control of your furry little problem. I'm sorry, but my oaths as Lord Black prevented me from helping you until I was dead. This was my way of circumventing that. Good luck, my friend, and remember not to shy away from life like I've been trying to stop you from doing for the last three years. Goodbye, old friend. Mischief managed.

Remus broke down in tears, getting a hug from Tonks almost immediately... Which got him thinking about his late friend's request. Dumbledore was worried, and Molly offended that he had left such a thing to a _werewolf_! A beast! He wasn't worthy of that!

-And now, just before the grand finale, I leave Albus Dumbledore... with a big old GO TO HELL, YOU MANIPULATIVE GOAT-LOVING BASTARD!

Everyone was shocked speechless, but Sirius wasn't done.

-For keeping me locked up for over a year, and preventing me from contacting my Godson, even though I could ensure private and safe communication... Go to Hell. From making it impossible for me to get a trial, even though Veritaserum would have easily proven my innocence... Go to Hell. And finally, for performing an Obliviate on me (they fade when people die, by the way) to make me forget that you KNEW I wasn't the Secret Keeper and that it was you who got me locked up in Azkaban without a trial for thirteen years for a crime I didn't commit... GO TO HELL. You're lucky I'm not alive to kill you, but believe me. You'll get yours. You'll get what's coming to you, you son of a Bitch.

No one could even utter a word, though most were quickly losing control of an urge to kill Albus Dumbledore.

-And now, on behalf of Harry James Potter's departed spirit and myself, I leave everything of mine and of my Godson to Gabriel Myrrdin. I also leave him with the following request. Gabriel, if anyone is to blame for both Harry, me and Hedwig, and for James and Lily, Dumbledore is. If anyone is to blame for your family, it's Voldemort. So as my last will and my Godson dying wish... destroy them. Both of them.

Dumbledore panicked. Harry dead? That was the end of his plans. How lucky Myrrdin wasn't here. He'd never even heard of him... He had to nip this at the bud.

-I contest this Will! I declare everything here property of the Chief Warlock in the name of the Wizengamot as per the latest legal decree! I also demand the immediate destruction of that deranged and delusional shade! This entire Will is hereby illegal!

Snakebite scoffed.

-Pipe down, old fool. You're embarrassing yourself. You have no authority to demand anything here, let alone declare a Will sanctioned by Gringotts illegal. You're the one who's delusional if you think you have that power in Goblin territory and legal domain. Besides, that decree is only applicable if the deceased has no Heir. He has an Heir. Therefore, all you get are the deceased "Fuck you". I suggest you leave before you provoke my people into attacking you, which your Ministry would allow, because they don't want another rebellion they know they can't bring down by force, but only by submitting to our demands. Which they don't want to do. So go on, now. Go. Aren't you listening? Leave, you fool!

Dumbledore was stupefied. How... What... He could not allow such disrespect from a creature so inferior!

-Die you filthy creature! _Reduc..._

- _Expelliarmus!_

Dumbledore was disarmed by Gabriel, whose wand burned to cinders after one use. Which was quite surprising form him, but went unnoticed by everyone else. He just used Dumbledore's wand to stun him while no one was looking. He received a certain feeling from the wand. She was his, but he wasn't hers. It was quite a weird feeling, but it told him enough. He needed to go to Ollivander's, a.s.a.p. As a matter of fact, actually, he needed to do a lot of shopping.

Busy day.

While he mused upon this, everyone in the room observed him, or what they could see of him. He was wearing Muggle clothes that didn't quite suit him, and showed extremely poor taste even to those who knew anything about Muggle clothing, or perhaps especially to them.Since he was seated, they couldn't quite get a read on his height, though he was clearly not small. His hair was long and straight, mostly black with several streaks of dark red hair that reminded the adults of Lily. His face was hidden, though his eyes were also Lily's, only brighter and bigger, almost like a panther's. His voice was similar to James' and Harry's, only deeper and richer.

-Hi, Gabriel. If you would be so kind as to finish this, please?

Sirius had pointedly ignored the entire situation and just gone ahead and addressed this person they didn't even know was in the room. He nodded and got up, before walking up to Sirius' shade and proclaiming:

-Sirius Black is dead; his wand is no more; his ashes are spread; he's gone through Death's door.

His voice was melodic, almost hypnotizing. After he finished speaking, a soft glow involved him, but he wasn't finished.

-Harry Potter is dead; his wand is torn; his ashes are spread, his soul is reborn.

A _massive_ light engulfed him, lifting his hair and showing his face for all to see. He looked like a more handsome version of James, but with a slightly more angular and rough face, as well as well as Lily's facial expressions. He still looked more like James than Harry did, though.

And just like that, the Reading was over. Grok Snakebite spoke:

-My Lord, would you follow me? It is time for you to claim your birthright.

-Do lead the way, Mr. Snakebite. And once more, it's Mr. Myrrdin. Actually, you know what? Just for that little speech you gave the goat-fucker, you may call me Myrrdin.

-Then please call me Snakebite, Myrrdin. Mr. Black, would you follow me as well, please? After I drop off Mr. Potter we can finish Gringotts duties towards you by taking care of your portrait.

-Certainly, Grok, old chap, I'm right behind you. Ah, Miss Delacour, might I ask something before you leave? Please read the letter before exiting Gringotts. Also, Narcissa, Nymphadora (AH! Now I can call you that and there's nothing you can do to stop me!) and Andromeda, you can meet with Gabriel later to discuss your return to the Black family, if you do wish to return to it.

-Come on, Snuffles, don't waste our time.

And just like that all three left through one door, leaving the rest of the attendees to another Goblin who would guide them out of the bank.

Most were in shock, or in deep thought. Remus and Arthur knew exactly what was going on. They'd recognized the ritualistic incantations. Fleur was looking for an alcove so she could read the letter Sirius had left her. She soon found one and sat down to open it. She then recognized the wards on the wall of the alcove that would ensure her privacy. She rubbed her thumb on the runes, willing her magic to activate them. Before she could open it, she had to swallow her grief for Harry's death. Why had she waited so long to go on a date with him? Now she never would... Finally, she got under control, or at least managed enough to open the letter, only to find a single paragraph.

 _ **FLEUR, HARRY ISN'T DEAD. WELL, HE IS, BUT HE'S NOT. ARGH... IT'S COMPLICATED, OK? HARRY POTTER WAS A MASK, YOU SEE, A MASK HE ONLY TOOK OFF FOR YOU AND ME. AND NOW HE'S REBORN WITHOUT THAT MASK. GABRIEL MYRRDIN**_ **IS** _ **HARRY POTTER. HE'S THE REAL PERSON BEHIND THE MASK. SO DO ME A FAVOUR. DEMAND TO GO ON THAT DATE WITH HIM AND GIVE HIM A GOOD SNOGGING, ALRIGHT. HE JUST LOST HEDWIG, HE NEEDS YOU.**_

 _ **SIRIUS**_

Fleur was shell shocked. She sat here, in the alcove, trying to wrap her head around the events of the last half hour. Eventually, she got up and move to the door of Gringotts. Harry.. No, Gabriel would have to leave the bank eventually, and she would be at the door, waiting to slap him... ant probably snogg him right then and there.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was in a room with Grok Snakebite deep in the bowels of Gringotts, waiting for him to be ready for their conversation. The Goblin had told him he still needed somethings before they could discuss what Myrrdin wanted to discuss. He suspected he was waiting for Gabriel's House rings. Frankly, Gabriel was feeling a little overwhelmed. But still, he made an effort to get it together. "Okay, let's think this through. What do we need to speak about? Species. Definitely species first. Top priority, _easy_. Then, Van Helsing Dracula. Finally, Vassal Houses. Ok, see that wasn't so hard.". "What a pity we/you don't do it more often..." a part of him drawled. "... Shut up." was the only answer that part of him got.

-Ah, Myrrdin, I think we can begin, the things I requested are here.

Gabriel looked to the door and, sure enough, there was a Goblin with ten boxes... and ten goblins with a great big crate each. "OK, admittedly, that part I did not see coming." "You should have, I mean, duh! You're at a bank, you idjit! Did you expect BANK STATEMENTS _not_ to be involved?" "...Shut up."

-Yes, Grrbek, put the boxes here... And you lot, just drop those and I'll get what I'll need from them, not like they can't handle the floor the way we build them. Now, off you go, I'm sure you've more work to get to.

The eleven other Goblins left the room, leaving Snakebite and Harry alone. The former was grinning in a shark-like fashion.

-Apologies, Myrrdin, but I love teasing the interns. Best fun I have during business hours. With the exception of insulting the ancient Dodo back there, but that's like comparing pyrite to gold. Now, to business, I assume? What do you wish to discuss with me at this time, apart from taking up your heritage?

-Four things, Snakebite.

Gabriel had thought of a _very_ annoying possibility that he wanted to be able to fully dismiss before ignoring.

-Oh? And what would those things be?

-Well, first off, I find myself suspecting how much access Dumbledore and crew had to my birthright. Did they have the ability to remove anything from my parents' estate?

The Goblin frowned and dryly spat:

-Do you mean apart from destroying their Will?

Gabriel didn't speak for all of ten seconds before shouting with barely contained murderous fury:

-HE DID WHAT?!

-He used the chaos of Voldemort's defeat to attack a Gringotts Goblin and destroy the Will, which consisted of your parents' shades, much like your Godfather's. However, due to the mayhem that the nation was experiencing, the Minister was able to keep us from declaring war or banning Dumbledore from Gringotts... for now. If he messes up again, he'll be done for. He didn't know, however, that their portrait had already been done and has been kept safe from him by us. The Will had also been saved as the shades' requests on paper, as is standard procedure to avoid just this. However, we could not apply it to you because you were in Dumbledore's power. But we couldn't prove it, and that's how he avoided it, until he managed to become your magical guardian because you were Muggle-raised. Sirius Black would also not benefit from it, because your people were incompetent, corrupt and dishonest and Dumbledore took full advantage of this. Heartbroken by the supposed betrayal of one of his best friends, the death of the other three and your disappearance, Lupin fled the country, but returned fully Dumbledore's man. I hope you'll try to get him out of that predicament, the poor man doesn't deserve it.

Gabriel was stunned. He knew Dumbledore was evil in his way, but this... this was machiavellic!

Snakebite's voice changed from the angry rant to a softer tone.

-Your parents never meant for you to go to the Dursleys, in fact they specifically forbade it. They meant for you to go to Sirius or Frank and Alice or Amelia Bones. But that never happened because of Dumbledore. Who by the way leaked the Longbottoms location to the Lestranges, because he wanted to eliminate the other prophecy candidate. Instead, he got him to be raised by his grandmother and put huge blocks on the boy's physical coordination, magic and intelligence... as well as bravery. The man should have been tortured to death _slowly_ years ago, so numerous and horrible are his crimes.

Gabriel couldn't help but agree. But this hadn't answered his original question.

-What about afterwards? Did he lay a hand on my birthright?

His Account Manager laughed a sad laugh, and asked:

-Did he leave anything untouched? He couldn't even touch the main Vault, but he siphoned all the money (because it's all he could take) he could from your Trust Vault. He wasn't alone either, Molly Weasley did it too. She claimed she was removing money from "her future son-in-law's vault". Oh, did I forget to tell you? They signed a betrothal contract for you and Ginevra Weasley. Of course, that's dead, since so is Harry James Potter. But, because neither can actually prove that they had Harry's approval, as the owner of the vault, if you command an audit they'll be unable to justify what they did under the wizard or Goblin law. And because you can wish for them to be published by Goblin law, the Ministry will have no choice but allow us to collect everything back with interest and ban them from Gringotts.

The young Heir and the Goblin shared a ferocious, _evil_ smile that would have given their targets the willies.

-Alright, next, my "species" classification in the Inheritance Test. _Explain_.

The Goblin swallowed at his cold tone, reminiscent of his attitude when arriving at Hogwarts slightly over an hour before.

-Well, to do that, I'll need to explain the Van Helsing Dracula House.

-Good, that was my third point, so this will save us some time.

His voice wasn't glacial anymore, but it was still somewhat colder than before, which Snakebite interpreted as a result of his regaining a measure of emotional control after their shocking conversation about Dumbledore and his parents' Will.

-Gabriel Van Helsing was an exceeding powerful mage before the Founders' time. He was also a vampire hunter. The Van Helsings were an off-shot of the powerful Belmont clan that had once reigned all over Europe, and Gabriel was their leader. But they were few, and one horrible night, an exceedingly powerful vampire killed all of the Van Helsings bar Gabriel himself. It was an attack that destroyed the Van Helsing Manor. But the monsters made a mistake. They used werewolves to help. And both the vampire and the werewolf leaders bit him at the same time. His magic fused the curses, which allowed him to kill all of the attackers. But his family was still dead.

-What does this have to do with Alucard, my ancestor?

-Gabriel _was_ Alucard. Much like you, he too took a new name upon his rebirth. Alucard for his name, and Dracul for his House, to distinguish form those who came before him, and had none of his blood. He perfected his new powers and lived for decades, becoming widely feared by both humans and monsters, Dark and Light. But of course, he was always called a Dark creature. The Light, in their short-sighted idiocy and bigotry, and yes, even evil in some cases, will never accept the greys. He accumulated wealth and power among the neutrals and the more open-minded despite this. And his blood (dormant in all his descendants) made its way to the House of Black. And then onto you.

-So, my species...?

-You're half Lycanpire, the name of Alucard's species. But he had a full conversion, because he wasn't born into it. You're dormant, which is another difference. And finally, he wasn't a half Magus.

-What is a Magus?

-A Magus is hard to define. You know that magic is somewhat self-aware, yes?

-Yes, it's why we can swear Unbreakable Oaths. Our magic can bind us to honor them, or punish us for breaking them.

-Well, Magi are... Well, vessels of this magic. They have immense magical power, but they have very little free will. Their power isn't as powerful as it would be if they truly wanted to do what they do, but they don't. In a way, they're a blessing, but politicians and rulers don't like them, because they have far more legitimacy, are incorruptible, and will do what is _right,_ or what magic believes is right, regardless of what anyone wants. It's a literal greater good that they obey, and therefore politicians can't openly be against them, because that would put the public against them. Fortunately for those people (and unfortunately for the rest of the world) those Magi come around once per generation. I think you were meant to be this one's, like Merlin was his generation's, but then you were born half Lycanpire, making you a half-Magus. I think you could feel magic's will, but ignore it if you wanted to. Making you even more dangerous. So I think Dumbledore repressed you. I shudder to think what he did that forced magic to go against itself. It must have only been possible due to your hybrid status, and it's still the greatest abomination I've ever even hear of. I don't know how to reverse it.

Gabriel's mind was far past blown. It was nuked. This was too much for him to handle, he _couldn't_ deal with this right now. He had to think about something else.

-OK, one last thing. Vassal Houses?

-Ah, that. Vassal Houses are Houses that have sworn loyalty to another House in return for protection. Of course, the bond is also one of mutual support. Think of it as the relation between a noble and a king. Usually, there's only one Vassal House per High House (a House with a Vassal House). I wasn't even aware of any exceptions until now. All of your Houses are High Houses, but eight are regular High Houses... Never thought I'd be saying that, "regular High Houses". Anyway, House Penandros has three. And House Van Helsing Dracul has _four._ But I happen to know none of the Penandros Vassals. Fortunately, you know all of the other bar Van Helsing Dracul's, and those I know. Tepes were the other descendants of the Belmonts, Valerious were hunters, Nosferatus were Vampires and Selycanis were werewolves. Weird combination, I know, but your ancestor defied logic for most of his long life. Anything else before you take your House Rings?

-Two. Will I be Lord or Heir?

-Heir. You'll be Lord next year on your seventeenth birthday. You went through legal rebirth, not a legal emancipation. But don't worry, Dumbledore will have no power over you until then. Though I'd wager he'll try... Next year may prove entertaining.

-And my second question. Do I have to wear ten rings? Because I don't want to look like a Muggle pimp...

The Goblin laughed hard.

-No, you don't have to! Your rings will merge in the same finger, and become invisible unless you want them to be seen. They become a part of you, meaning when you want someone to see one of the rings you just call it to your finger. You can shower with it and all, because it's technically not there, it's within you.

-Oh, great.

Afterwards, Gabriel slid ten of his rings on his right hand ring finger, before looking at all of the crates and nervously asking:

-One more thing... Do I have to go through every single thing in those crates with you?

Snakebite gave him an evil smile and asked

- _What do you think?_

 _ **A/N: Well, one more chapter. I'm sorry this one took so long, but hey, it was larger and I have stuff to do. What am I, a professional writer? Do I look like I have AIDS?  
**_

 _ **Just kidding. I hope you enjoy this one, I had to split the two parts of this chapter because as you can see, the combined thing is huge. I'd like some feedback on his legacy, and his monologues. Did you like it, or was it only funny in my head?**_

 _ **Also, for those who find his mood swings slightly strange, remember he just lost Hedwig and saw Sirius' shade. It's a difficult day for him. Also, he was drawing upon his Familiar for stability, and that makes him... Well, cold, understandably. It's the reason he even made it so far, which is why he's cold when he's in control of his emotions. That control comes from Skyfjord.**_

 _ **While we're on the subject of that damn bird, what did you think of Gabriel's Familiar? I'll try not to make her too overpowered.**_

 _ **Next chapter we'll get more Fleur, some interaction between Gabriel and Fleur, more Skyfjord, and a SHOPPING SPREE! A MERLIN-BE-DAMNED SHOPPING SPREE!**_

 _ **So you know, clothes, general stuff, BOOKS... And who know, maybe you won't get a cliffy with his wand... or will there BE a wand at all? That's for me to know and you to wait to find out, MUAHAHAHA.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading and please review. It's one of the things that motivates fanfiction writers not to stop writing these stories.**_

 _ **Anyway, see you next chapter, THE HEIR'S SHOPPING SPREE! Idovelicus over and out.**_


	5. Chapter 3: The Heir's Shopping Spree

Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Note: I made Fleur a year younger. The minimal age for participating was 16 instead of 17.

Chapter: The Heir's Shopping Spree

Gabriel left Gringotts with a sore back and a headache worse than the Cruciatus. "Bloody Goblins, those things are more sadistic than Voldiepants himself..." Well, there was nothing he could do except pop all vertebrae he could and take the headache relieving potion Snakebite had given him. They'd been there for over three hours! And Gabriel thought Binns' classes were dull.  
He covered his eyes from the brightness of the four o'clock sun, having been inside the bank since before midday and thus resenting the brightness that contrasted with the dull torchlight that reigned in the Goblin halls. He wanted nothing more than to go to the Leaky Cauldron, rent a room like he had three years before and fall down in its bed. He wanted to lie down and weep, for is parents, for his owl, for his Godfather... Hell, even for himself.  
But the simple fact was that grief, as his life had taught him many times over already, was a luxury for those with the peace and the time necessary. He would mourn who and what he wanted to mourn when he could. And right now, mourning whomever or whatever he wanted to mourn was simply not possible. Maybe in the month before Hogwarts he could. Maybe.  
But if he couldn't mourn, and he wasn't ready to rest... He could certainly still shop.  
Merlin knew he needed a new wardrobe... Which was now an incredibly amusing thought for him, since Merlin probably _did_ know. "My life is _weird..._ But then again, it was weird already, so right now, I don't even know what to call it."." How about something you shouldn't be wasting time thinking about instead of shopping... Or moving... Or indeed doing anything?"."... Shut up."

Harry had spent weeks in the Alley during the summer before his third year at Hogwarts. And so Gabriel knew it better than most twenty year old wizards, even if they weren't Muggleborn. So he quickly attempted to make a mental list of what he needed to shop for.  
Clothes? Whole new wardrobe, _pronto._  
Books? Oh, yes. Definitely.  
A new trunk was in order too, since he'd probably need more space.  
He would need to have a chat with Skyfjord before buying anything for her... SKYFJORD! HE'D FORGOTTEN SKYFJORD!  
-'/ Would you calm yourself? You didn't forget me, I've just been practicing flaming all over the country because quite frankly, you needed to stand on your own despite your grief during the Will and everything else just seemed boring... Besides, you could tell me anything important afterwards./'  
Gabriel tried to find any flaw with her arguments, but could not. "Figures. How would a Blizzwing _not_ be good at _cold_ hard logic?" Yes, she could have stayed with him, but she'd done him a kindness by not doing so. Once he'd held himself during the meeting with the Goblins before the Will, she'd left, limiting his ability to draw on her for stability. Which is why he hadn't been as cold after that. Still, she was his Familiar, and that meant he would naturally colder than even his real self had been. Though perhaps her new phoenix powers might offset that a bit.  
-'/ Speaking of that, how are you doing with those powers? Are they giving you a hard time?/'  
-'/ At first, they were. You have no idea how weird it was for me. I don't think an unbound Blizzwing could have really learned as easily as I did. I already have a source of warmth, _you._ So the Phoenix powers just had to be associated with you. And yes, that means we'll connect directly through Hedwig's gifts, and that will reduce my permanents effects on how cold you are. Unfortunately for you at first, it'll also mean our affectionate gestures will likely be the very similar to, if not exactly the same as, your and Hedwig's affectionate gestures. So that might be somewhat hard for you, at least at first./'  
Gabriel tried not to think about it.  
-'/ Do you need anything from the Magical Menagerie? Actually, I just realized I know next to nothing about your kind. What do you eat, where do you sleep? You do sleep, right? ... And eat?/'  
Skyfjord laughed like a maniac, wherever she was... Gabriel realized he also didn't know where she was. Was there a distance limit for the mental chat the familiar bond gave them?  
-'/ You don't need to get anything, relax... I eat mostly fish, but I like to hunt game sometimes. I ate a delicious stag last week. He was easy to kill, though. Once I hunted a bear. He wasn't very tasty, but at least he was a decent challenge without my powers. And yes, I do sleep, about two hours per night, every two nights. My kind have a highly efficient nutritive process, and we don't need as much brain rest as you humans do. Your minds are horribly disorganized, you poor things. And I sleep in a nest of ice and twigs that I make on high rocks, cliffs or trees. Satisfied, Mr. apprentice zoologist?/'  
Gabriel laughed. He couldn't help it. He was starting to really like this bird... But he was also wasting daylight.  
Okay, no Magical Menagerie at all. The apothecary seemed pointless at that point, so maybe that was it, clothes, trunk and books. No, there was something else. What was he forgetting?  
STUPID! His wand had burned to ashes in his own hand, how could he have forgotten that? He should be upset about it, not dismissive!  
But then again, that wand would have been useless against Voldemort. And really, it wasn't _his_ wand, it wasn't _Gabriel_ 's. It had been Harry's, which meant it had never been truly his, because it belonged to a person who never existed. Maybe he should go to Ollivander's for a new wand. He wasn't sure he wanted to use Dumbledore's. He wasn't going to give it back, that was for sure, but he didn't really want to use it. It responded to him, and he knew it had chosen him over the Headmaster. But he hadn't chosen it. The wand just didn't feel quite right.  
"That settles it, then. First order of business, trunk, to carry everything else. Clothes after that, and books after that. Finally, Ollivander's. I might have to tell him who I was... Because he might just figure it out on his own.  
Just as he set out from Gringotts to go about his shopping spree, an unexpected factor entered into play quite suddenly. And its name was Fleur.  
Gabriel had just started walking when he felt someone almost tackle him and heard a familiar voice whisper:  
-'Arry James Potterr, explain yourzelf zis instant!

Gabriel now sat next to Fortescue's in front of a very irritated half-Veela. Which was a situation he had hoped he would never be in, but given his usual luck, he ought to have known he would get himself into one sooner or later.  
No longer speaking with a French accent, which only came out when she was extremely stressed since she wasn't as inexperienced with the English language as she had been as a Triwizard Champion, Fleur asked with a clearly barely controlled fury:  
-Harry, would you like to tell me why Sirius was the one to tell me you weren't dead, and in a letter at that? Even better, would you like to tell me _why_ you're pretending to be dead in the first place?  
-Harry James Potter is dead.  
-Then how are you standing in front of me?  
-Easy. My name is not Harry James Potter. My name is Gabriel Myrrdin.  
Fleur blinked.  
-Your parents weren't your parents?  
-Let's forget that verbal oxymoron for a second. Yes, James and Lily were my parents. No, I had no siblings. Yes, Harry James Potter is dead. Yes, he existed. Well, he did and didn't, but let's not get into that just yet.  
Fleur was confused.  
-What does all that even mean?  
Gabriel sighed.  
-Harry James Potter is dead. He has been reborn. I am Gabriel Myrrdin, Heir to the House of Potter. Well, actually Peverell, but I can take care of that later.  
Fleur's jaw hung open. She'd heard of magical rebirth, but it was extremely rare, and it involved a number of special circumstance and incredibly old and powerful magic. It was also, due to its rarity but also undeniable legitimacy, an enormous web of loopholes in magical law all over the world. Harry was dead... In front of her stood Gabriel Myrrdin. This she could not deny.  
-Fleur, do you remember when I told you about my mask?  
Fleur nodded absently. Yes, she remembered. It was one of the things that had always fascinated Fleur when it came to Harry. His true self was someone only she and maybe Sirius had ever seen. And she deeply treasured that. She liked True Harry far more than Fake Harry. True Harry had saved her sister. True Harry understood her like no one except her own mother. Maybe better than her. And True Harry was her best friend of a year and a half, and her secret crush.  
-Fleur, Harry James Potter is dead. Harry was the mask. My true self is standing right in front of you , wearing the name that was always truly his, reborn away from the shackles many tried to place on him. It's me, not some new persona. You _know_ me. You know _me._ No one else does, Fleur. Sirius knows a lot, but you are the only one who really knows me apart from my Familiar.  
Fleur was touched deep inside her heart hearing this. But she suddenly frowned.  
-I thought Hedwig wasn't your Familiar.  
Harry... no, Gabriel, she corrected, cringed at the mention of his owl's name. This is when she realized that she did know him. Because she knew _exactly_ what that meant. In a low voice she asked:  
-She's dead, isn't she?  
Gabriel answered in a hoarse whisper.  
-Yeah... Yeah, she is. She died this morning, poisoned by my relatives under Dumbledore's orders.  
Fleur felt a great anger rise within her. Veela were creatures of air and fire. Half-Veela were at once Veela and human. Which meant that she was every bit as much Veela as any pure one, and every bit as much a witch as a pure blood or a Muggleborn. That in turn meant that when she was angry, she would start to turn avian, and things around her would start to float and burn, and when she was royally pissed, she had once caused things to explode.  
Gabriel knew all this very well. After all, he had been there for quite a few explosions. And it was very inconvenient when not in a private setting.  
-Fleur, calm down. I'm far more enraged than you are, but making a spectacle won't help me. My wrath will hit cold. So just leave it to me, OK?  
The young woman calmed down, slowly controlling her breathing and heartbeat.  
In an attempt to distract her, Gabriel decided to tease her:  
-Now that we've established I'm me, perhaps we should address the fact that you still owe me a date, no?  
Fleur smirked at him. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she went along with it. Besides, he was playing right into her hands.  
-Well, it won't happen with you dressed like that. Honestly, you don't even need to get me angry, because you're already making a sad spectacle of yourself with those clothes!  
-I _was_ planning to go shopping for an entire wardrobe. You see, I'm afraid I have no more than the clothes on my back.  
Fleur smirked at him with fire in her eyes and Gabriel realized he had put his foot in his mouth worse than Weasley and Granger multiplied could have managed. He gulped as Fleur dragged him to Madam Malkins' Robes for All Occasions.

"Well, that's an hour of my life I'm never getting back." Gabriel thought as he left Madam Malkins'. Fleur had chosen the wardrobe for him. Which was probably for the best, but a no less hellish experience for it. Fortunately, it was over. He had to admit that he liked Fleur's taste, and she had kept to his favorite colors: black, silver, blue and green. She'd thrown a dark red or two in there too, though. Not that it looked bad, hell, she'd done a far better job than he would have done and he freely admitted it. She'd gotten him to tell her where the Muggle clothing shop was, and they'd started with that. She'd kept to black slacks or jeans, at his insistence, along with t-shirts in the aforementioned colors and leather jackets in black. Also, a couple pairs of trainers. As for robes, he knew the colors, but that was about all he understood of his Wizarding wardrobe. He preferred Muggle clothing, anyway. More comfortable for sure, and Gabriel preferred the way he looked with his new Muggle clothes, including finger-less black gloves he'd insisted on buying, despite Fleur's impatience on getting to other things.  
They'd swung by the trunk shop earlier, where he'd bought a trunk that housed ten different compartments, each the size of a walk-in closet. The trunk was black with silver fastenings, and had a weightless charm, a shrinking charm and an indestructibility charm. The lock was configured to only open to him, bound by his blood. And it still only open to a password, which was a phrase that would only make sense to him. "The Hunter is Forged in the Depths of the Storm." Moreover, it had to be said in bird-tongue.  
So he was pretty sure is stuff would be safe.  
Gabriel was considering postponing the book hunt, considering it was past five in the evening. There probably wasn't enough time. But there probably _was_ time to stop at Ollivander's. Assuming he could hurry up. Last time he'd shopped for a wand there, he'd gotten about two hundred wands before finding the right one. Now that he thought about it, the way it worked seemed kind of fishy. Neville used his father's wand. Didn't the wand choose the wizard? Then again, given what he'd heard concerning Augusta Longbottom, maybe she was in denial. It might explain Neville's difficulties with practical magic. And It just seemed a _horribly_ inefficient way of finding a wand. Random attempts, really? Old Garrick just made wands with random traits and hoped they'd choose someone? That didn't seem very realistic.  
Fleur said she'd go look at some books in the french section of Flourish and Blott's while Gabriel went to the wand shop. Just as well, he suspected it might take a while.  
As he walked in to the shop, he looked out for the shop's owner. The man had an uncanny talent for appearing out of nowhere without a sound, which was really unnerving. Sure enough, there he was, trying to glide into the entrance hall without being too noisy.  
-Hello, Mr. Ollivander. It's been a while.  
The old wand salesman looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights for a couple of seconds, before he chuckled and responded:  
-Not many people can catch me sneaking up on them, young man. And I assure you I'd remember one of them, much like I remember everything else. Eidetic memory, you see. Yet I don't believe I've ever seen you before.  
Ah, so that's how he identified everyone and remembered every wand! It made sense, he really should have thought of it before.  
-My name is Gabriel Myrrdin, Mr. Ollivander. Tell me, what would cause a wand to burst into flames upon the casting of a simple spell?  
The old man immediately tensed and took on a look of fascination and focus.  
-If one who had not been chosen by the wand tried to channel too much power through it, then yes, that could happen. But that would be an incredible amount of power. There is a fine line between having that level of power and not being able to use a wand at all.  
Now, Gabriel was just confused.  
-Pardon my ignorance, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean.  
-You see, wands, fascinating as they are, have a limit in how much power they can channel. For the average wizard, this will never be a problem. For exceptionally powerful ones, it can be an inconvenience of variable relevance. For the rare few gifted with truly awesome reservoirs of raw magical power, or with incredibly large magical cores, if you will; a wand just won't do. Wands are relatively new in comparison with magic itself. They came to be around... Oh, seven hundred years ago. You see, before wands there was wandless magic, that few could perform and almost none master, and staffs. Staffs require more power, but also have a far higher threshold. They do not drain more power, you see, but will not work without a minimum core size. Due to wands our numbers increased exponentially. The Ministry banned staffs centuries ago. They resented that level of power, I'm afraid. Of course, this has only worked because until now they haven't had anyone at Hogwarts too powerful to use a wand.  
Gabriel was slightly dumbfounded. He now _knew_ that he probably wouldn't be able to use a wand, but what could he do about it?  
Well... Ollivander claimed his family tradition in wand making was over two dozen centuries old, didn't he? So most of his ancestors had made staffs, not wands. Plus he sounded unhappy about the ban on staffs.  
-Mr. Ollivander, you wouldn't be knowledgeable in the art of making a... Staff, would you?  
Garrick gave him a smirk.  
- _That_ would depend entirely on who was asking.  
-The person to whom you sold a phoenix tail feather and holly wand five years ago... Well, that person is dead, but he is reborn.  
Garrick seemed stunned for a minute, before nodding.  
-Well, then Mr. Myrrdin. I do believe I owe you a reimbursement for the fate of my work, and for pushing on you the sister of the wand from whence the death of you family came. I suggest you follow me out back.  
Gabriel walked with the old man, uncertain on what he would find in the back of the store.

A table, several tools and nothing but shelves.  
And shelves.  
 _And_ _shelves_ of nothing but wood and vials and crystals and gems of all sorts and sizes. It was impressive, quite frankly.  
-Mr. Myrrdin (as I imagine you prefer, since you did not present yourself as Harry Potter), this will not be similar in the least to what you went through when you purchase your wand some time ago. Back then, I _sold_ you a _wand._ Now, I'm about to _make_ you a _staff._ There's a substantial difference. Before, I was just trying to see if a standard size of shoe fit on your foot, so to speak. Now, like a General of old, I will _tailor_ you a pair of boots. What I mean by this is that you will be far more active now. Also, you will be part of the actual process of making the staff. But first, there are a couple things we need to do. First off, we need to discuss whether you are fully human, whether you have a Familiar, do you mind submitting to a sort of test so I can have an estimation of your core size, etc. I assure you, none of this information will leave the shop. It is standard procedure for me to swear an oath that prevents me from divulging it. That also means I require your truthfulness, as the answers are extremely important.  
He then proceeded to give his oath. The lights that surrounded both of them made it quite clear that the oath had taken place. That reassured Gabriel, but given his status, he was worried whether Ollivander would be able to cater to his rather unique circumstances.  
-Well, I'm bounded with a female lightning aligned Blizzwing with Phoenix abilities gifted by a dying newborn White Phoenix. I'm half Magus (repressed), and half Lycanpire (dormant). And I will take the test, though I'm curious about the procedure itself.  
Garrick's face alone made the visit worth it, even if he still worried he wouldn't get what he wanted here.  
-Well... Mr. Myrrdin, you are definitely unique, but I do believe I can help you. I was wondering when I would use some of these things. Also, please call your Familiar. We're going to need her. This will be my family's masterpiece, I suspect. Truthfully, Mr. Myrrdin, I just might give it to you for free just for the opportunity.  
Gabriel smiled. Coming here might have been an excellent decision after all.  
-Mr. Ollivander, would my staff come with the Trace?  
-Unless you're a magical genius who has figured out how to do such a thing, despite the fact that the Trace was invented long after the illegalization of staffs, I'm afraid not.  
Well... That was a relief. Not like the Ministry would be able to do anything about it once he went to Hogwarts. Next summer, the Trace would be gone anyway, so there wasn't really a good argument that could be made. And he expected to have a safe haven from his jailers before Hogwarts. Assuming he even bothered to go.  
WOW... Where had that thought come from? He needed to finish his magical education! ... But did he?  
After all, what he really needed was a Muggle education, and most of his affinities would be wasted at Hogwarts... And apart from Neville, no one he really cared about would even be there, so really, why should he put himself under Dumbledore's thumb? He could probably just study at home (wherever that would be) and take the exams at the Ministry, no problems. And for enough Galleons, no questions asked.  
But that was a month away, and he had to focus on the here and now, on the making of his staff. In fact, Ollivander had already started is explanation of what he would have to do for the test.

-I will give you an athame, which you will use to drop some blood into a cup I'll also give you in a second. After that it's up to me, but it'll be quick.

Gabriel took up the athame and the cup and sliced across his open palm, before closing his hand and letting the blood flow into the cup. The wand maker soon took it and waved his wand over his customer's blood. The results must have been surprising, because he fell of his chair in surprise.

-I take it my results were abnormal?

-Mr. Myrrdin, that's like saying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is feared. Your core makes the cores of everyone in this alley combined seem tiny. You've the raw power of a minor god flowing within you, and that complicates matters.

Garrick got up and bid Gabriel follow him to the shelves. As they walked, the old man addressed him:

-Mr. Myrrdin, concerning some of the things I have here... I'm old. I'm two centuries old, in fact, give or take a half dozen years. My children are dead, most of my grandchildren are either dead or grandparents themselves and the last I heard of one of them it was the son of one of my youngest daughters about a year ago. He'd just become the french Minister of Magic. I sold Dumbledore's wand to him when I already had grown children. Hell, professor Binns is... well was my son, working as a professor at Hogwarts when Dumbledore started school. So, as I said, if I am anything, it is old. Yet some of the things here are so much older than me, that my grandfather, who was in Griffindor House and caught Nicolas of Mimsy Porpington sneaking around Hogwarts more than once when the now ghost was a first year and my grandfather was prefect, wasn't even born when they made their way to this shop. They probably predate wands, and no Ollivander has ever managed to use them in wands. Most likely because they were meant for staffs. Now, do you have any wand with you?

Gabriel was still recovering from the speech. Ollivander's family was _everywhere!_ And what he'd just said about his Minister grandson... Was this man _Fleur's great grandfather?_ Then he realized he was waiting for a answer.

-Yes, I do, actually. The spell I used that made my old wand burst into flames was the disarming charm, with which I disarmed Dumbledore. Here's his wand. I think she chose me as her new master, but I wouldn't want to use her, she just doesn't feel right.

Ollivander stared at the wand, stunned. Then he quickly took it from is customer's hand and cast diagnostic charms one after the other. Then he gave a deep sigh and turned to Gabriel once again.

-Mr. Myrrdin, I'm not sure how Dumbledore got his, but you're looking at the Elder Wand, the Death-stick itself. 13 inches, White Elder Wood and a core of Thestral Hair bathed in Dementor blood. This wand wouldn't help you, I'm afraid, since even though it chose you, you will never be able to use a wand again. However... We might be able to use it all the same. I could fuse the wood with the rest of you staff, and make the core a part of the staff's core. Merlin knows it was already going to be a complex one anyway.

And with that, Ollivander opened a door at the end of the corridor, where there was a small cupboard, with intricate shelves where Ollivander apparently kept certain gems, cores and woods.

-Now, Mr. Myrrdin, your core is titanic. It will beyond a doubt push the limits of a regular staff, which is why your staff must be _legendary_ in its might. To achieve that, the staff itself will have to be crafted from the strongest and more conductive materials that I know. This means that I will have to grind unicorn horn, dragon bone and an alloy of elements that Muggles have as of yet not discovered that is table, but incredibly heavy. Also, we will have to pick a wood from my best logs. The wood must be ground into the mix as well. Then we will forge it into a staff. It will be unlike anything you've ever seen, I warn you. And we haven't even gone into the matter of cores yet.

Gabriel was reeling. This was going to be more complicated than he thought, but he knew it had to be done.

-Mr. Myrrdin, the Ollivander family is descended from the first Magus. And since him, _every_ Magus has come to us when his time was near, so that when he died, heartstrings would be collected from him. Then, we used our blood and their blood to kink the new heartstring to the first one from our ancestor. This was meant for _you_ , Mr. Myrrdin. But it's not all. Your ancestor (I assume), Alucard, came to us before he died of his own volition. He gave us his hair, bathed in a mixture of his blood and is ground fur and canine. That is another component of your core. And finally, a lightning feather from your Familiar covered in her ash and frost. We bind all that with the Elder Wand's core through the use of your blood, and send it into a hole to spread throughout the staff, after which we seal the staff. Also, before this we will have to carve runes into the staff, which we will activate with your blood as we send the core into it. The process will be long, morose and complex, not to mention very exhausting for you due to the blood loss. Now, that being said, do you still want to proceed? It will take a couple of days. You can sleep here, if you wish. Is there anyone waiting for you?

Gabriel was... he didn't even know what to call it. Shocked didn't cut it, and neither gobsmacked, dumbfounded or any other term he could think of. "Stop trying to define your _irrelevant_ present condition and start considering his proposal, you fool!"."... Shut up."

-Yes, I want to go through with it, and I appreciate the offer of sleeping here, I think I'll take you up on it. Also, I do have someone waiting for me, your great granddaughter.

Garrick spluttered. His customer laughed like a maniac at the situation, until Ollivander shot him a pointed glare. Which was pointedly ignored, except for the fact that it made Myrrdin laugh harder.

-Would you like to meet her? - Gabriel asked.

The old wand maker looked at the young man in front of him in shock. Then he smiled and said:

-Actually, yes I would. In fact, I'd love to.

And that is how Gabriel found himself having a discussion concerning Fleur with her great grandfather instead of her father, on while taking him to meet her. Not the most pleasant experience, perhaps, but Gabriel felt that mostly his fault. Ollivander was completely cool with whatever answer he got that wasn't insulting to his descendant. But then again that made sense. The man had had several kids, who by now had their own grandchildren, some of which already had kids of their own. He'd left the overprotective phase behind over a century earlier.

They found one those without kids browsing the french section of the premier bookstore of Diagon Alley, so absorbed by what she was doing she didn't even notice them at first, much to her chagrin and embarrassment. They quickly made their way to the Leaky Cauldron for a butter beer, where Gabriel made the introductions. Fleur's face was worth the wait. He wish he had a Muggle camera to record it for posterity, but a pensive would have to suffice later.

After what was a very enlightening conversation or Fleur concerning her origins, Ollivander asked whether she had a career planned already.

-Actually, I've been panicking all summer, because I don't know what I want to do now that I'm out of Beauxbatons. Why do you ask?

-Well, I have no surviving children. And most of my grandchildren are either dead or elderly themselves. But I still don't have an apprentice. Which is unfortunate, because I'm not sure I can make it for twenty more years. I need to pass on the mantle, child. And for obvious reasons, I want to do it with someone of direct Ollivander descent. So my proposal is: do you want to become my Apprentice? It might take a few years, but you would eventually become a Master Wand-maker. I'm sure of it, I can sense the potential in you. And you would be my Heir. 'Tis the tradition in the House of Ollivander.

Fleur and Gabriel were both gobsmacked. Neither of them had even in their strangest thoughts expected that!

-You don't have to answer now! I'm aware of how sudden this is and that it is not a decision to make lightly. Think about it. In a couple of days Gabriel's staff will be complete. Maybe by then you'll know whether it's a yes or a no.

And on that note, he pulled Gabriel apart and led him to the door that led to Diagon Alley.

-Gabriel, tomorrow I want to take you to a friend of mine. His shop is located between mine and Knockturn Alley. He sells books. Well, technically, he sells knowledge. You see, he's a Bard. Probably the only one left in the Isles, and one of a handful left in the world. Bards are seekers of knowledge. It is their life's mission to acquire, protect and provide knowledge. I think your best option if you want to explore those affinities of yours, is to become his Apprentice. And don't look so shocked, when you don't hid your magical presence people like me and Dumbledore and You-Know-Who can easily see that you have many affinities. For what, I don't know. But I know they're there, and that's more than you want me to know. Anyway, do you want me to introduce you?

Gabriel was really getting tired of going around with dropped jaw. It just looked stupid.

-Sure... Yes, it'd be much appreciated.

And then Ollivander dragged him to say goodbye to Fleur and go back to his shop. After all, the next day would be a busy one and they would need their sleep.

 _ **A/N: Well, one more chapter. Do tell me what you think. I'd never seen any fic create a connection between Fleur and Ollivander, and it just came to me. Also, I'm still trying to find the fic I got the inspiration for the bard concept from. I don't remember the name, but it was awesome. Far better than mine, if you ask me.**_

 _ **Sorry for getting a little distracted from shopping, but personally I feel that the chapter was better off because of it.**_

 _ **Also, WOW! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! Over 100 followers? That's great! And almost 4000 thousand views… Now if only you would review more.**_

 _ **I might upload during the weekend, but it's not very likely. Gabriel's staff won't be complete until the chapter after the next one, but you will get to meet the Bard and Fleur's newfound Familiar. Maybe you'll recognize him… Also, on a related note, Dumbles might make an appearance next chapter. Also, Fleur will probably get a new wand, but who will make it?**_

 _ **Thank you for reading, please review. Idovelicus over and out.**_


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